


A Change of Heart

by HideTheDecay



Series: Angels and Spiders Series [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29902275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HideTheDecay/pseuds/HideTheDecay
Summary: "I dismissed the guy watching cameras tonight, told him I couldn’t sleep anyway and I had it covered. I’ll get you as far as the gate, then you’re on your own.” Jack realized Reaper probably wasn’t going to believe him on his word alone so he took out a key he’d swiped from the security room. He passed it over the cell door and he took a large step back as he slid open. “Let’s move.”
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Series: Angels and Spiders Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198673
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin off of Angels and Spiders (the first story in the series) and it takes place after Chapter 21. If you want the full story, read up to that point and then start this one. If not, the basic gist is that Reaper was caught in a trap sprung by Overwatch and Mercy has been trying to fix him while he's imprisoned.

It was the middle of the night when Jack made his way into the room that housed Reaper. He hadn’t exactly planned it that way, but he couldn’t sleep and his gut told them this was what he needed to do. It was probably the best time anyway, if he was actually going to go through with it. 

He doubted the other man was getting any sleep either. Rest was never easy when you were in enemy territory. “Reyes…”

\---

Reaper was laying on his buck, his eyes shut. He was dozing, but as soon as the door opened, his eyes opened with it. He looked over and scowled as soon as he saw who was there. What the hell was he doing here so late? He immediately imagined the worst. That he was here to make him miserable. To stop him from sleeping. To try to torment him when no one was around to stop him - it wasn’t as if whoever was watching on the cameras would care. 

“What do you want?” he snarled, the entire situation lifting his hackles. He swung his legs off his bed and stood up.

\---

“To do the right thing for once. I know that sounds pretty rich coming from me.” His voice was low, but for once, not full of venom for him. “I can’t fix what I’ve done to you, but I can prevent you from rotting away in that cell forever because Dr. Zieglar’s too stubborn to quit. I’m busting you out tonight.”

\---

Initially, what he was hearing alarmed him. His eyes went to his hands, looking for the gun or whatever it was he meant to kill him with. He started to slowly step to the side. The only place he would have any shelter was in the nook, so he intended on diving into it if he had to. Before he could get too worked up about this attempt on his life, however, he heard what he had to say and he stopped. 

“...Fuck you.” This was some trick. Something to rile him up. He was offering him freedom, something they both knew he wouldn’t offer him unless it was to fuck with him.

\---

“I thought you might say that.” Or that he might be looking for a gun. “But I mean it. I dismissed the guy watching cameras tonight, told him I couldn’t sleep anyway and I had it covered. I’ll get you as far as the gate, then you’re on your own.” He realized Reaper probably wasn’t going to believe him on his word alone so he took out a key he’d swiped from the security room. He passed it over the cell door and he took a large step back as he slid open. “Let’s move.”

\---

He stared at him, even as the door opened. He shook his head, not at all trusting him. This was some scheme. He was pretending that he was going to let him go, then he was going to say he’d stopped him from escaping and that he needed to be executed. ...Even if that was true, it was tempting. All he had to do was kill him and he was free. He would even have a key - if that key opened anything more than the cell.

\---

“If we’re doing this, we need to move fast. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but...this isn’t right.” He moved further back, headed toward the door but not turning his back on Reaper. “Let’s go, we’re not getting any younger.”

\---

There was a long hesitation, before he slowly stepped out of the cell. His eyes were still fixed on him and it was clear what he was thinking. How quickly he could close the distance between them and strangle him to death.

\---

He knew that look well and he laughed, dry and humorless. “You can kill me when you’re out if you need to. You’ll never get out fast enough if you kill me and try to find your way on your own. Come on.” He pushed open the first set of doors, trusting Reaper to follow him into the corridor. 

\---

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He trailed after him, maintaining a respectable space. For his own sake. His eyes flicked around, waiting for the other shoe to drop as they left the room he’d been condemned to.

\---

Soldier 76 was keeping his eyes open also, but at this time of night all was quiet. He used a keycard to get them past a couple sets of doors, but he hesitated when he reached a heavy set of double doors. “A different security team watches this wing so as soon as they spot us, alarms will sound and lockdown will begin. Run, keep to the right side of the hallway, and stay close. Understood?”

\---

“If you’re really doing this,” And he still didn’t believe he was, even as they walked the halls together, “the least you could have done was brought me my guns.” _That_ would have been a show of trust. One that he could buy. 

\---

“I’ve got a pistol on me. I’ll give it to you once we’re outside. I figured you’d be a little too tempted to shoot me if I gave it to you in the building and if you do that...well, we both die for nothing.” Not that it would make much difference to him. But he’d like to think he gave his life for something that mattered.

\---

He glared at him. “Go.” He still wasn’t buying this, but… he had to try to see this through. When it came to the point that he had to act, then he would act. He would do whatever it took to get out of here.

\---

He nodded and once he passed the keycard over the door, he bolted, keeping to the right as he told Reaper. It seemed the security team had been a little drowsy because they had almost reached the next set of doors before the alarm blared. “Stay close!” He repeated, kicking open the next door that he knew would be unlocked. He could hear the footfalls of security coming but they were all coming from the left side and he took a sharp turn into a hallway leading to the right.

\---

Reaper was on his tail, the sound of the alarm raising his already pounding pulse. He wished more than ever that he still had his abilities, but he could take care of himself without them. The other man was a better sprinter than he was, but he was doing a decent job of keeping up with him.

\---

Not many people could keep up with him at a full run, but he was glad Reyes hadn’t fallen far behind. He had to stop just long enough to use his keycard one last time, then they were out in the yard. It was too risky to take him out the main gate, but there were smaller, less obvious doors to get beyond the wall. He took him to one of those, fishing for a different key that would open that. Once there, he stopped, holding the door open and pulling the pistol out of his waistband. He offered it to Reyes, his chest heaving only a little after the sprint. “On your own from here.”

\---

He was having a hard time taking a steady breath and he had broken a sweat during the sprint, but as soon as the weapon was offered to him, he held it. He stared at it. At him. Then he took it. As soon as he had it, he turned it on him, pointing it at his temple. “Are you fucking stupid?”

\---

“Yeah. I’m pretty stupid.” He didn’t seem surprised or even alarmed by the gun pointing at him. “Go on then. I’ve had it coming from you for a long time. I fucked you over, Reyes.”

\---

He stared at him. Then past him. Then around them, still searching for what this was. What the fuck he was doing, because none of this made sense. He tightened his hand on the gun, pressing it firmly into his temple. So hard it would leave an imprint of the muzzle. “You don’t think I will?” he snapped, trying to bring back the asshole that had started this. He didn’t like whatever this was.

\---

“I know you will. That’s why I waited until you were out of the gate to give you the gun.” He didn’t think Reaper could have waited to kill him and he would have gotten himself trapped. “Do you still want to see what’s under my mask before you do it? I owe you that much.”

\---

His eyes were as confused as he felt. He was working himself up to do it, but… he had no interest in killing him if he _wanted_ to die. He wasn’t willing to grant him what he deserved, not if he wasn’t going to fight him to his last breath. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He pistol whipped him instead, trying to draw out that rage.

\---

He stumbled a little from the hit, not expecting it. He was expecting a bullet. When he regained his footing, he pulled off the mask and visor. He tipped his head back, his ruined eyes seeming to look up at the stars even though everything was dark for him. “I’m just a bitter old man. I’m tired of pretending you’ve been the villain all this time. I would tell you that I’m sorry for all of it, but we both know that isn’t worth shit. So this is my apology. Just do it.”

\---

For a long time there was silence. Then the gun lowered. Then it clattered to the cement. Then the blind man took a devastating punch to the face. “Fuck you!” There was emotion in his voice that he’d not ever heard in it. He sounded distraught. He looked it too, beneath the mask. “You’re not. You’re _not_ sorry. You don’t get to be _sorry_!”

\---

He wasn’t prepared for that hit either and he lost his balance. He took a knee to catch himself and decided to stay there. “I know it’s not worth anything now. It’s been too long for me to make any of this right, but I can give you freedom and I can give you my life. That’s all I’ve got, Reyes.”

\---

“No. I will kill everything you care about. _Then_ I will kill you.” He couldn’t stand to look at him. He’d known he was hiding something, but… he hadn’t thought it was anything like that. 

\---

“We don’t have time for this. They’re checking the main gate, but eventually security will come this way.” He’d heard the gun hit the ground, but maybe he had picked it back up. “We were so close once. I even…” They really didn’t have time to get into any of that and he didn’t want to hear it anyway. “I’m sorry. About everything. Now hurry up.” His eyes were not quite on Reaper’s face, but close enough based on where he heard his voice.

\---

For a while, there was nothing. No sound, no movement, Then the gun scraped the cement as he picked it up. Then the visor too. The former he stuffed in his waistband, the latter he held onto. Then he grabbed the kneeling man by the back of his neck and yanked from roughly to his feet. “You’re coming with me,” he growled, all but dragging him as he started to walk away from the gate.

\---

He didn’t typically wear his visor in his room. He knew the layout well and he could navigate it easily without his sight. But it had been a long time since he’d been outdoors without vision and he gripped Reaper’s arm with one hand to steady himself as he walked along with him. “Why? Why don’t you just shoot me?” What was the point of taking him somewhere else to do it?

\---

“You want me to.” He would never give him what he wanted. Not unless he suffered first. His death would be bitter if there was no satisfaction in it. There was no satisfaction in killing a helpless man begging for death. 

\---

“How else am I supposed to make it up to you?” He sounded defeated. Maybe he just wanted him to die slow. It wasn’t really Reyes’ style, but maybe it was what he wanted for him.

\---

“You can suffer.” He would do whatever it took to make him suffer. That’s why he had to stay alive. If he wanted death, he’d give it to him, but not before he was miserable. Whatever this was… Even if he’d freed him and returned his life to him, it did not even begin to make up for his betrayal. 

\---

“If that’s what it takes.” It didn’t really matter. He could endure pain. He could wait it out if he intended to starve him to death to make him die slow. The night air was pleasant against his face and he thought briefly that maybe he should have at least sat outside somewhere with his visor off even if he didn’t like trying to walk without it.

\---

He scoffed, but said nothing further. He needed to get them out of sight. They would be searching for them and he had no resources. Nothing to help him. Just a gun. He could make it work, but his most immediate need was shelter. So as they moved, he sought somewhere they could lay low for the rest of the night. 


	2. Chapter 2

Getting a car had been simple enough, but he hadn’t wanted his ‘companion’ awake for the drive. It was going to be a long one, so he’d struck him unconscious, dumped him in the back, and the hours had passed in sweet silence. He somewhat regretted his decision when they arrived at the safe house, however, because he had to carry the man inside and set him down. He dug through the supplies for some rope and tied him up on the floor, before dropping on one of the beds. 

He’d contact Talon later. Right now, he needed rest.

\---

It wasn’t long after Reaper settled on the bed that Jack started to stir. He groaned and tried to rub at his aching temple, but found he couldn’t move his hands. He went still, trying to evaluate his surroundings. The air was still and it felt like a wood floor beneath him, so they were indoors now. He started trying to push himself to sit up, but the way his limbs were bound, he was struggling. 

\---

He heard the movement and at first he tried to ignore it, but when it sounded like he was struggling, he held in a sigh as he pushed himself up. There was another bed near his, but fuck him. He was staying on the floor. “Sit still,” he demanded, looking down at him. 

\---

“Where are we?” Probably not in a cell. Cells didn’t typically have wood floors. He was starting to push himself in a random direction, hoping to inch himself to either cell bars or some furniture he could use to push himself into a sitting position.

\---

“Not your concern and I said _sit still_.” He pushed himself off the bed completely, standing and moving to where he was squirming. He would punch him again if he had to.

\---

He heard the bed springs, then footfalls near him and went still. So he wasn’t in a cell for certain if Reaper could get that close to him. He doubted the man would lock himself in with him and if there was a bed in there, he doubted it would have springs. “I don’t know why you’re going to this much trouble. I just want to wipe the slate clean and be done with it.”

\---

“There is no washing your stains,” he snapped, hand flexing. He was tempted to hit him again, but the man wouldn’t see it coming. It was… disappointing. 

\---

“I know. No one knows that better than I do.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t know what you think you can gain from killing everything I care about. I cared about Overwatch more than anything and it still fell to ruin. I cared about you more than anyone and, well, you know what I did to you. There’s nothing to take. I already took everything from myself.”

\---

He did strike him at that. “Shut up.” It agitated him to hear him say shit like that. That he cared about him. He shook his head. “You were and always will be a coward. Trying to take the easy way out.”

\---

“You’re right. I’ve always been a coward.” He could have taken the fall for Overwatch, but it had been so easy to justify making Reaper the villain instead. He was still reeling from the last hit, but he barked another humorless laugh. “You know what? I even had a thing for you when we were young, but I never told you. I knew you were straight and I was too much of a coward to say anything back then too.”

\---

He was bewildered and he grabbed him by his jacket, yanking him up. “I said shut up!” he yelled, throwing him back against a wall and pinning him there with fistfuls of his clothing. “You were supposed to be my brother.” They were supposed to be family, but he’d hung him out to dry.

\---

He winced when his head hit the wall, dazing him a little. “I should have been. I couldn’t have you the way I wanted you, but I still should have been like a brother to you. I lost my way, Gabe.”

\---

His breathing was growing uneven. “Shut up.” This time the demand was weaker, accented by him pulling him forward ever so slightly and then shoving him back again. He sounded like he was losing it. He was overwhelmed by his emotions and starting to shake.

\---

When he felt the forward pull, he braced for a hard hit but it seemed like he was shoved with a little less enthusiasm this time. “I loved you, you know that?” There had been a time when no one had been closer to him than the man that had put a gun to his head that night. “And it still wasn’t enough to stop me from fucking up everything.”

\---

He repeated the motion, this time with a scream, and then he released him. He turned away from him, his eyes welling. He tore his mask off and with it balled up in his fist, he punched the nearest thing to him. The tiny nightstand beside his bed. The plywood cracked beneath his knuckles and his skin split, blood rising to the surface.

\---

He fell awkwardly to his knees without the man to hold him, his face following the direction of the sound he was making. “Reyes…” His own voice was a little unsteady. “Gabe, just shoot me. It’s not going to fix it, but it’s the only thing I can do.”

\---

He shook his head to himself, but eventually grabbed the gun. He grabbed the visor too. He walked up to where the man was knelt and, fumbling with it, he fixed it back on his face. So he could see him. Then he cocked the gun.

\---

When his vision returned, he was surprised to see that his mask was off. His face was badly damaged, but it was still so familiar to him and it gave his chest a little warmth to see it again before the end. “Go ahead, I’m ready.”

\---

He couldn’t really see him properly with it on, but Jack could see him and that was what mattered. He took several steps back from him, his eyes dark. “If any of what you said is true, then maybe I _can_ make sure you suffer.” Rather than point the gun at him, he pointed it at himself with a smirk. He would watch him die and there was something poetic about him stuck here, starving to death at his side.

\---

The warmth was gone and his blood ran cold. “That isn’t what you want. You’re free now and I’m not the only person on your list. Without you to watch me, I can get out of this and kill myself after you.” He was careful to make sure his voice was more even. If he gave away too much distress, he might do it.

\---

“No you won’t. You’ll starve to death.” He kept the gun trained on his own head. “You’re the most important person on my list, as long as you’re dead… as long as you’re in pain when you pass, then I don’t care.” He shook his head and then laughed. “We were supposed to die together in that explosion. I’m just fixing my mistake.” He hadn’t intended on dying in the explosion, but that didn’t change the fact that they both should have.

\---

“So are you the coward now?” He asked, starting to wriggle in his bindings again. “You can’t handle everything I said to you and now you’re checking out?”

\---

“Why so eager to stop me?” he spat, mocking him. “Where are the jabs about sheets? You were eager to tell me to kill myself before. Where’s all your smart remarks now?” He wanted to believe that this was the best way to hurt him. To twist this little act of redemption around to make sure his last days haunted him. “Is this too fast for you? You want me to hang myself instead?”

\---

“You’re just afraid. You’re so used to feeling like the world is against you, you can’t handle hearing that I loved you. You can’t go on knowing I wanted you.” He didn’t think he was going to be able to stop him. As spiteful as he was, he was probably going to do it, but trying to make him angry was all he could think to try.

\---

He tore the gun from his head and aimed it at him. “ _Shut up!”_ His hand trembled and he was so worked up that eventually he threw it away from him completely. To some corner of the room, which he then stormed out of. 

\---

He exhaled slowly. At least the gun was gone for now. His eyes fell on the cracked nightstand and he thought he should try to squirm his way over there. Maybe he could use a piece of that to get through the rope, but he’d taken a lot of knocks to the head and when he fell from his kneeling position, he groaned, seeing stars for a moment. He wasn’t going to get anywhere quickly.

He gathered his energy and with careful, coordinated movements, he inched his way over to the nightstand. He lined his wrist bindings up with a splintered piece of wood and began using it to pry enough space in the rope to work a hand loose. He was experienced with this and it didn’t take him long. With one hand free, he was able to rid himself of the rest and he stood, stretching his sore limbs with another groan.

Now that he was out, he was at a little bit of a loss. The gun was still in the room. He could just kill himself to prevent any more standoffs like the one they just had, but it wasn’t really what he wanted. It wasn’t really taking responsibility for his actions if he just did it himself. 

He was tired. After standing there indecisively for a long time, he took off his visor and set it on the broken nightstand, then slipped off his boots. He climbed into one of the beds and pulled the covers up, closing his eyes. Maybe this would make more sense in the morning. Right now, he needed sleep.

\---

It was a couple of hours before Reaper returned to the room. He was exhausted and he needed sleep. He would deal with everything tomorrow, but for now, he was going to gag the man that had him so worked up and take a desperately needed nap. When he entered the room, he stilled to see him lying in one of the beds. Without his visor. 

He looked to where he’d left him and he saw the rope sitting there. Just sitting there. He’d gotten out… and he’d gone to sleep. 

The rumble started in his chest. Slow at first, but then it built. Soon he was laughing. Loudly. Hysterically. Then it started to shift. The sound stopped, choking. This time the tears that filled his eyes fell. He was crying and as that built, he turned and strode back out. Sobbing, his knees failing him and soon he was falling too. Into a heap on the floor, his face burying into his hands.

\---

The laughter was enough to rouse him and he woke with a groan. His head was pounding. He reached for his visor and found nothing. That made him remember that he wasn’t in his own room. The nightstand he put his visor on was on the other side. He groped for it and it took him a couple tries to find it. 

Once he settled it into place, he stood and started out of the room, following the sounds that he now realized were not laughs, but sobs. He found Reyes crumpled on the floor, a sobbing mess. It was the farthest thing from what he’d expected. He crouched beside him and put a hand on his back. “Gabe, come lay down. You need sleep.”

\---

He stiffened when he felt the hand and he threw out his arm, as if to shove him away. He shook his head, too worked up to stop sobbing, but not wanting to be seen like this. By anyone, but especially by him. He did not _cry_ , but he especially did not cry over _him._

\---

He was undeterred by the attempt to push him away. He had comforted many young soldiers after tough missions, but this was different. He gave his back slow, steady strokes. Maybe he could get him to settle down enough to go to bed.

\---

He kept pushing at him and when that didn’t accomplish anything, he wound up lunging at him. “Don’t touch me,” he croaked, more pathetically than he’d like to admit. His hands gripped him whatever they happened to land. One on his arm and one on his shoulder. His eyes were even redder than usual and his face was wet, both thick with tears.

\---

Jack had never seen him like this. Not even on their worst days together. He held onto him in return, finding them in an awkward embrace. “Gabe…” He didn’t know what he could say to him.

\---

He shook him, for lack of control over everything else. Then he let go of his arm to wipe at his face with the back of his hand. Trying to clean himself up and get a grip over himself. “You’re such a stubborn fuck,” he mumbled, wanting to hit him, but not having the will for it.

\---

“I always have been. You know that.” He kept his hold on him. “So are you.” It was how both of them had always been good soldiers and leaders. They wouldn’t quit.

\---

They both were. He was struggling to breathe, but he seemed to be slowly pulling himself together. He wiped his face again, getting rid of much of the moisture on it, but he was flush. He felt sick, but the worst of it had passed. He pulled away from him and rose to his feet unsteadily.

\---

He rose to his feet as well, giving him a little space. “Let’s go to bed. I think we could both use the rest.” His head was still aching and he didn’t know if Reyes had gotten any rest at all yet that night.

\---

This time he didn’t argue. At this point they were on a different planet and if the man he hated and who hated him in return wanted to stick around of his own volition, then what the fuck ever. He went back into the room and straight to the bed he’d laid on before, sinking onto it.

\---

Jack dropped onto the other bed and once again took off his visor. For all he knew, he’d wake up with a gun to his head. Or worse, he’d wake up to the sound of Reyes killing himself instead. Either way, he couldn’t deal with it right now. He just needed sleep and he closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jack opened his eyes again, sunlight had flooded the room. He wasn’t aware of it however until he settled his visor into place. He saw Reyes still sleeping in the bed across from him. So they had both survived until morning. He wasn’t sure where they went from here and he pushed himself to sit up, his legs hanging over the edge of the bed. He hadn’t expected to still be alive at this point, but since he was, he was hoping wherever they were had coffee.

\---

The sound of the shifting in the bed was enough to start rousing him. He made a sound as he stretched, his eyes cracking open. For a moment, he forgot where he was. After sleeping on a hard bunk for over a month, the bed was disorintenating. He almost thought he was back in his room at Talon, but as he registered the everything around him, he realized that wasn’t the case. 

When he looked over and saw Jack sitting on the edge of the other bed, he stiffened.

\---

Jack had been looking over at the window, but as he rose to his feet, his gaze returned to Reyes. He realized he was waking and he paused beside the bed. “...I was gonna see if there’s coffee here. Want some?”

\---

He studied him, his lips turned down. “...I don’t drink coffee.” Or anything. He pushed himself up, also not knowing where to go with this. The man was… sticking around. He hadn’t tried to escape given the opportunity. Twice now, if he counted last night and this morning separately. 

\---

He nodded, then started off in search of a kitchen. If there wasn’t coffee, maybe he’d at least find something caffeinated. The night before seemed so distant and strange and maybe it would start making more sense to him after some coffee.

\---

He watched him go and when he was gone, he looked down at his lap. He was humiliated about how he’d seen him the night before, but that was the least of his concerns. There was no need to go after him… Either he would continue to stay or he would leave and if he left, then maybe he could continue his chase. He could kill him and have it mean something, instead of nothing at all.

\---

It wasn’t good coffee, but he’d found some and an old coffee maker. When he returned to the bedroom, he had a steaming mug in hand and he took a seat on the bed he’d spent the night in. He took off his visor, then raised the mug to his lips and took a cautious sip. “I don’t usually drink my coffee around anyone. Don’t want the team to know I’m a cripple.”

\---

He was somewhat surprised when he returned to drink his coffee, but maybe he shouldn’t be. “...Is this your plan? To unload on me until I have to kill you?” He’d admitted so much to him… So much that he didn’t want to think about. That made him all the more angry about what had happened between them.

\---

“My plan was to help you escape, then either go back to bed or get shot. Neither of those things happened so I don’t have a plan.” He took another sip and hummed. It wasn’t that bad for off brand coffee. “I got the opportunity to tell you everything, so I did.”

\---

“Do you feel better?” he drawled, knowing that the things Jack had said sure as hell hadn’t been for his benefit. He’d done it to alleviate his own guilt. It was selfish, is what it was. He talked and talked about getting what he deserved, but all he’d actually done was use him as a sounding board to try to make himself feel better.

\---

“I guess. You deserved to hear the truth.” Even if it didn’t change anything. He shook his head, breathing a miserable sigh. “...I’m so sorry, Gabe.” 

\---

“Stop calling me that,” he snapped, the familiarity not at all welcome, even as he mockingly referred to him as “Jack’. He’d stopped thinking of him as Jack a long time ago. He was Morrison to him now. “I don’t want your apologies.” He looked down, frowning. “I don’t care about your guilt.”

\---

“I know you don’t. I just don’t know what else to say. I thought you’d just shoot me.” That would have made all of this less complicated. 

\---

“Why bother with the rope? If you’re not leaving?” That was what he didn’t understand. Why had he stayed? Why wasn’t he halfway back to Overwatch by now?

\---

“It was uncomfortable.” He didn’t like to be bound. Besides, he wanted to prove to him that he could get out so he could ruin his fantasies of letting him starve to death alone. “I’m not going to run from you. I need to face you. What I did to you. How I felt about you. I’ve been running away too many years.”

\---

“Stop with that bullshit. You didn’t-” He couldn’t even finish the statement. Even if he’d had a thing for him, which was bizarre to think about, he hadn’t loved him. The thought was repulsive. Not because he was a man, but because of who he was. Someone that had betrayed him so deeply, it had completely broken him.

\---

"I did." He wasn’t sure which he was accusing him of - not wanting him or not loving him. Either way, he'd been telling him the truth. "I couldn't tell you, but I did."

\---

“Then you’re even more fucked than I am,” he spat. He still didn’t want to hear it and he still didn’t believe it, but if he was telling the truth, then it made what he’d done that much worse. The only justification, thin as it might be, was that those feelings had faded by the time he’d decided to sacrifice him.

\---

"I know I am. That's why I let you out." He sipped his coffee again. "Of the two of us, I'm the monster. The rabid dog to be put down."

\---

He rolled his eyes, but continued to watch him. It was interesting being able to see him and to know that he wasn’t looking back. That he couldn’t, not without his visor. He looked how he remembered him, just… damaged. The same way he looked himself.

\---

He finished his coffee, then reached for the broken nightstand. When his fingers found it, he set the empty mug there. He left the visor off for now, thinking Reaper might be more comfortable while he was at this disadvantage. 

\---

The longer he looked, the more worked up he became. Eventually he stood. He walked to him and he wouldn’t see it coming when he struck him. As soon as his fist made contact, he crawled onto the bed, hands wrapping around his throat as he shoved him back and crawled over him. 

“Stop being so pathetic,” he growled, choking him, but not so much that it would kill him. He didn’t want to kill him, not until he dropped this act. Until he turned back into the man he really was.

\---

He heard him coming and braced for a hit, but he was surprised to feel the weight over him. His fingers found his shoulders and he held onto him tightly as his airway was cut off. He wasn't fighting. If anything he was encouraging him by holding him in place. It was probably better that he killed him with his bare hands, more personal. 

\---

He growled again when he didn’t fight. He squeezed harder briefly, wanting to hurt him, but unwilling to take it as far as he wanted to. “It’s no wonder Vincent left you,” he snapped, trying to strike a blow. To get a rise out of him so he would fight him.

\---

When he squeezed harder, he thought maybe that would be the end of it. Instead it was only brief and he stole a strangled little breath when he let up. "I loved him." He could barely speak and it was hard to hear. "But not like I loved you." His love for Vincent had been more romantic, but it wasn't the same as the bond he'd once had with Reyes. 

\---

The response was met with a snarl. With another smack. He released his neck so he could slap him again and again, until his hand ached too much to continue. He couldn’t get a rise out of him no matter how hard he tried and it was as he laid there trying to profess how much he’d supposedly loved him that Reaper thought of another way to degrade him. 

A way that he hoped would be worse than the violence. 

Still on top of him, he started to work his own pants off and once they were thrown aside, he crawled up his body. “Here,” he spat, “You keep saying you wanted them so much…” He pressed his sack against his mouth, trying to humiliate him and get what he wanted that way instead.

\--- 

The way he felt him moving was very confusing, right up until he felt his balls against his lips. Maybe he didn't believe him that he'd wanted him. Or more likely, by his tone, he was just trying to get a reaction from him. 

This was so far from what he'd ever envisioned, but he was going to show him that he meant what he said. His lips parted and he ran his tongue slowly over his sack before pulling one of his balls into his mouth and sucking hard. 

\---

Whatever he was expecting… it wasn’t exactly that. His breath caught when he started sucking and his spine stiffened. He looked down at him, his teeth clenched, but it was just degrading enough that he didn’t stop it. He stayed where he was, watching with disgusted fascination as he worked him.

\---

He was expecting him to pull away. He was also expecting to be hit again, but it wasn't happening. He continued to suck him and work him with his tongue, wondering with grim amusement if a woman had ever given his balls proper attention. 

\---

“Fucking slut.” It was not a word he would have ever thought he’d hurl at him, but here they were. The man that had tried to throw him to the wolves, that had wanted him dead for years, that _hated_ him was laying there diligently working his sack. His breathing was growing heavier and his cock was stiffening with the sick thrill of this.

\---

He didn't think he'd ever been called a slut before, but here they were. He could hear his breathing deepening and he wondered if he was getting hard. If he couldn’t help but enjoy this, straight as he was. 

\---

He let it go on for a long time. For a long, long time, but eventually his cock was straining so much that it hurt. It was then that he answered the other man’s musings. He shifted and put his cock to his mouth instead, but instead of waiting for him to catch on, he shoved himself in.

\---

He could feel the way he had moved so the cock in his mouth wasn't totally surprising. But the shove was and it took him a beat to recover from the way it choked him. Then he got right to work, sucking him hungrily and rolling his tongue over all the places he thought Reyes would like it. 

\---

He groaned, the feel of his tongue was incredible. He really was a slut. Sucking his cock like it was his job. He thrust himself into his mouth, tearing his eyes away so he could look elsewhere. So he could think of someone else. A woman sucking him. Somehow that fantasy wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the knowledge that Jack Morrison was swallowing him like a proper bitch.

\---

The groan was satisfying. He was pleasing him, despite everything. He was growing thick himself but he was hardly aware of it. He took the thrusts, giving him all the suction he could while his mouth was fucked. 

\---

The longer it went on, the more frantic his thrusts were. The faster. The deeper, trying to choke him on his cock. It had been long enough that it was overwhelming him with little effort. Jack’s effort was hardly little. He was starting to groan with every breath, body shaking as he fucked his throat feverishly.

\---

His technique was sacrificed when the thrusts grew too hard. He couldn’t do much but simply take it. His hands found his hips and pulled, encouraging him to fuck his throat with everything he had. He wanted to give him one of the best orgasms of his life, even if it was a strange way to express his remorse. 

\---

The hands on his hips added to his satisfaction. Slut. It was but a handful of thrusts before he came hard, his sounds reaching their height alongside him. He was pressed so deeply into his mouth that he spilled his seed directly into his throat. When he was done, he held himself there for several seconds, staring at him. Then he pulled back, climbing off of him.

\---

The warmth in his throat was incredible, even if it wasn't as warm as it should be. Then as suddenly as it had started, it was over. He was panting for breath when Reyes climbed off of him and he pushed himself to sit up. He was a little disoriented and he was straining inside his pants, but he was a little relieved to have a bit of space for the moment. 

\---

As soon as he was standing, he pulled his pants on. Without a word, he strode out of the room, leaving him alone. He had a lot to process and he didn’t want to be around him while he did so.

\---

When he heard him walk away, he thought he might be headed for the discarded gun. But then the footsteps kept going. He exhaled slowly, then sought his visor. He slid it on and looked around, reorienting himself to the room a little bit. He was alone, his face ached, and his blood was cooling. For lack of any other idea of what to do with himself, he laid back down. He was _never_ sedentary, but...he needed to think about what just happened. 

\---

It was some hours later that he concluded he needed to contact Talon. He had gotten out and he had to return to them… but he didn’t know what to do about Morrison. He didn’t want to take the man with him, but he wasn’t ready to dispose of him either. Not while he was like this. He was torn, trying to decide which mattered more. 

He made his way back into the room and when he saw him passing the time by working out, he scoffed. It was not unlike what he’d done when he was stuck in his cell, but the fucker wasn’t stuck here. He was free - sort of - to leave whenever he wanted. “...Is that it, then? You’re just a slut for me to use until I get tired of you?”

\---

It had been long enough that Jack was starting to wonder if Reaper had just left him there. He hadn’t heard the door but...maybe he just had enough of this and snuck out. He turned his head when he heard him speak, but didn’t slow in his sit-ups. “If that’s what you want, I guess.” 

\---

His expression twitched in irritation. He wanted to slap him again, to make him wake up, but he’d beaten the man’s face blue and it had accomplished nothing. He’d fucked his face and… that had accomplished less than nothing. It was exhausting. “I know you hate me.” He needed him to stop pretending like he didn’t.

\--- 

“I wish I did. Things would be a lot easier if I did.” It would have been as simple as leaving him to rot in his cell. To let Dr. Zieglar’s experiment fail and ultimately watch him be executed. But instead, they were here. 

\---

He strode to the corner where the gun lay abandoned and he picked it up. He walked to him and he grabbed his hand. He slapped the gun into it and using both of his own hands, he pointed it at himself. “I know you want to. I know you do. You wanted to ever since you captured me in that warehouse.” Since before that.

\---

He stilled when he saw him striding toward him with the gun, then sighed when he found himself pointing it at him. What he hated was that part of him really did want to pull the trigger. Part of him wanted to end this once and for all and convince himself that this was all Reyes' fault. "I'm not going to kill you."

\---

“Do it,” he goaded him. “You want to, so do it!” Anything to get the man to be what he knew he was. Not whatever _this_ was. He pressed it firmly to himself, his eyes full of anger.

\---

He pulled back against Reaper’s grip, pulling the muzzle of the gun up until it was aimed at the ceiling instead. "Enough." He wasn't going to shoot him, no matter how much he demanded it. He used their joined hands over the gun to pull him in closer. "Let go."

\---

He met his gaze, though it was hard to say exactly where his gaze was. If he was really meeting his ‘eyes’. His expression was filled with rage and with a jerk of the gun, as if to bring it back to him, he released it.

\---

That was better. He rose to his feet, tucking the gun into his waistband. "I'm not going to fight you. I know it's what you want, but it's the last thing I want to do with you."

\---

He watched him put the gun away. ...Somehow he’d gotten the gun back and out of his hands. Somehow that didn’t matter. Like the night before, it struck him and he started to laugh, but this time it was simply bitter.

\---

He remembered the laughter he'd woken up to the night before and the breakdown that followed it. He took a step closer to him. "It's okay."

\---

He shoved him back. “Nothing is okay.” Especially not this. This was the opposite of okay and for the first time in a long time, he felt completely lost.

\---

"It's okay…" He repeated, undeterred by the push and approaching him again. He pulled off his visor, making himself vulnerable once more as he got close. 

\---

It was tempting to take the visor, throw it on the ground and stomp on it. See if that would earn a reaction. He had a feeling it wouldn’t, though, and it was strange enough that he’d taken it off in the first place. He could see how badly bruised his face and when he wasn’t sucking his cock, he actually took it in. He was disarmed enough that he didn’t try to shove him away this time.

\---

He let the visor fall to the ground and when he was close enough, his hands sought him. When he found him, he pulled him in, trying to embrace him. It wouldn’t be welcome, but he would still try. 

\---

He stiffened when the arms wrapped around him. When he realized what he was doing, he shoved at him again. “Get off me!” The blowjob was one thing, but this was something else altogether. 

\---

He stumbled a little, but didn't release him completely. When he pulled him back in, he crushed their lips together kissing him desperately. He'd always wanted to. He thought he never would, but...well, Gabe had put his cock in his mouth so maybe he wasn’t quite so averse to the idea after all. 

\---

His eyes widened and he lifted a hand to strike him instinctively. It effectively broke the kiss, but after… He stayed close. So close he could feel his breaths, his own heaving with some intense emotion.

\---

He took the hit and it wasn't all that unexpected. But he could feel how close he was, his breath still ghosting over his skin. He kissed him again just as hard, as undeterred by the last strike as he had been by all the rest. 

\---

He held his breath and when it had to exhale, when he had no way to hold it any longer, he started to kiss him back. He had no idea what he was doing, but he was drowning and the only hand being offered was his. So he kissed him, his hands gripping fistfuls of his jacket.

\---

Jack pushed him toward the nearest wall. He couldn't remember exactly where the nearest wall was so he had to walk him a little ways before he was able to brace Reaper against something solid. He pressed into him then, pinning him with his weight and kissing him hungrily. 

\---

The role reversal threw him off even further. He was not the sort of man to be pushed into walls. He was the sort of man that did the pushing. It fucked with him enough that he wasn’t thinking. He was taking in the novel sensation, his mouth moving, but clearly unfocused.

\---

The fact that he was kissing him back at all was satisfying. He pushed his tongue into his mouth, feverish to taste him. His hand slid down his side and began to hunt for the hem of his shirt, wanting to get beneath it and explore him. 

\---

It was so surreal, but he let him touch him. He knew what he’d find. They were his fault, as much as everything was his fault. Reaper blamed him for everything. Even those blind eyes of his. If they were because of the explosion - and he imagined they were - then he’d done it to himself. He wondered if the other man was hiding wounds too, or if his eyes was the worst of it.

His own tongue slid against his, telling himself with every second of this that it was disgusting.

\---

His fingers wandered him and he made a soft sound into the kiss. He'd known how hard and muscled he was, but he could finally feel it for himself. It didn't take him long to stumble upon one of the open wounds and if he hadn’t seen the ones on his face, it would have shocked him. 

\---

If it wasn’t for what that stupid bitch of a doctor had done to him against his will, the fingers would have drawn a stronger reaction than is hitching breath. His own reached for the zipper of his jacket and he yanked it down. That stupid jacket tackily emblazoned with his number on the back. Soldier 76. Such a stupid moniker. 

Jack wasn’t Soldier 76 anymore than he was Soldier 24. The past was past and he was kidding himself if he thought he was the same man he’d been when they were young. When they had been newly chosen for the Soldier Enhancement Program. 

\---

He could feel his breath picking up a little when his jacket was unzipped. He hadn’t expected Reaper to want to undress him too. He broke the kiss long enough to tug impatiently at his shirt, deciding he wanted it off to explore him further. 

\---

He let him take his shirt off. He couldn’t see him and that helped… He’d be more reluctant if it meant being seen by him. Instead, he focused on jerking his jacket off and his shirt as well. Not baring him for the same reason Jack was, but to see for himself. If he was hiding anything else.

\---

As expected, Jack's torso was littered with scars of varying lengths and depths, but that wasn't what he had been hiding from his team with the same guarded secrecy of his eyes. It was the long, straight scar down his sternum. Dr. Zieglar had done extensive work on his heart after the explosion and he didn’t want anyone knowing that he was blind _and_ had a bad heart these days. No one but Mercy knew and she kept his secrets as she kept them for all of her patients. 

Without the barrier of clothes between them, at least on the top half, he pressed into him again, kissing him hard and running his fingers down his chest. 

\---

He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to see, but there was nothing that stood out to him. Not even the surgical scar. Men like them were littered with scars. There was no sign of the agony he’d endured everyday since. Between them, Morrison had gotten the better deal. It didn’t matter that he was blind, not if he had something to help him see as well as he had with his eyes. There had been nothing to soothe his suffering… not until recently.

He wasn’t done looking when their chests were pressed together. He returned the kiss with the same absence he had thus, his fingers finding his throat and closing around it. 

\---

He felt the fingers around his throat, but at least he was returning his kiss. He began to roll his hips slowly into him, wanting to feel him as hard as he was earlier. The hand on his chest found a nipple and he teased it lightly with his thumb. 

\---

He squeezed as he started to touch him and move against him. “Jack…” He bit his lip. Harsh enough to draw blood. “I fucking hate you.” He had to say it. The man was throwing himself on him and the strongest feeling in him was loathing. It wasn’t stopping him. It wasn’t enough for him to shove him away a final time, but it burned in him all the same.

\---

He winced when he was bitten, but it didn't stop him. He wasn’t asking him to stop. "I know, Gabe." It didn't matter. He still wanted him. 

\---

He drew his lip into his mouth and ran his tongue over it. He’d rather suck on it, but since that wasn’t possible, he lapped at the blood. Something to taste. Something that wouldn’t make him sick. The man owed him so much more blood than that, but he took what little was offered to him from the wound.

\---

Feeling his tongue like that made him shiver. He was starting to harden against him and he kept up the rocking of his hips and the teasing of his fingers. He wanted to get him groaning again. 

\---

The friction was doing its job and though he was disconcerted by the feel of his stiffening cock, his own was thickening in return. His hand slid to his shoulder and there, he started to push him down. He wanted him on his knees. He’d already proven he could handle that much.

\---

Jack knelt when he was prompted. He wanted more, but it wouldn’t hurt to warm him up with his mouth. His fingers slid over his pants until he found their fastenings, undoing them and pulling them down out of his way. He got right to work, sliding his cock into his mouth and sucking him hard. 

\---

As soon as he took him in, he dug his fingers into his hair. Gripping it and using it to thrust. Fucking his mouth like before, but not so desperately. This time he was steadier about it, slower. Letting him do his tongue work as much as he wanted.

\---

He appreciated the easier pace. He was able to do a lot more with it and he gave him a proper massage with his tongue. His fingers found his balls and he squeezed and kneaded them while he sucked him. 

\---

He tipped his head back and it thumped against the wall. He was already breathing heavily, holding back further sounds that wanted to escape. It was much, much better than any blowjobs in memory. The man was hitting him in all the right spots and he savored the feel of his tongue rubbing him.

\---

He couldn’t hear any groans yet, but he knew he was working him just right. The sound of his head hitting the wall was enough to be sure. He started to let his fingers wander further back, rubbing the tender patch of skin just behind his sack. 

\---

He’d never been touched there before and the sound he made was surprised. The groan Morrison wanted followed, loosened from being startled. His brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on his hair, unable to bring himself to look down at him. His neck was stretched as he expressed his approval to some higher power above.

\---

He could guess by the reaction that he'd never been touched there. He could also guess that it wasn't the only place he'd never been touched. He massaged firmly just behind his balls, taking him deeper into his throat. 

\---

“Fuck,” he keened, having to brace himself on the wall. His thighs were shaking and his thrusts were losing their steadiness. He was trying to keep them up, but also grind himself against his fingers. The firmer he pressed, the more incredible it felt and he was trying to add more pressure himself. He was starting to lose control of his groans, filling the air more and more the longer it went on.

\---

He could feel his shaking and his own needs were forgotten. He was enjoying this too much. He gave him what he needed, rubbing firmly into that spot with his thumb while his fingers wandered to take things further. They found his entrance and began to massage it just as firmly. If he'd never been touched this way, he was going to teach him a whole new level of pleasure. 

\---

He stiffened when he felt where his fingers were headed. His fingers dug so hard into his hair that they threatened to tear the strands from his scalp. “No…” He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t that sort of man. Yet even as he protested, his knees were weakening and he was sinking, shaking so hard that his control felt shot. He felt like he’d already lost this fight he was half-heartedly putting up.

\---

That was a little disappointing. His body was telling him to keep going, but since he'd protested he pulled his fingers from his entrance. The rest he kept up, wondering if he'd miss that extra stimulation. 

\---

When he stopped, there was relief, but there was something else too. Lamentation. Even though what he was still doing was more than enough to drive him wild, the loss of sensation after experiencing it was enough to make him ache. He dug his feet into the floor, trying to steady himself as he pressed more weight onto his hand, trying to make up for it in his own way.

\---

He kept it up a little longer, then pulled off of him, stroking him instead so it wouldn't be a total loss of sensation. "Take me to the bed." There was more they could do there if Reaper didn't have to stand. 

\---

“No,” he repeated, but this time there was desperation in his voice. “Don’t stop.” He couldn’t handle him stopping. He needed him to keep doing what he was doing to him. He’d never felt like this. Even when he was young and women flocked to him, when they sucked him to try to earn his attention. His affection. They never sucked him like this. 

\---

"Then after this one." He didn’t want him to be finished with him and go brood for hours if he was going to get him off like this. He took him in his mouth again, sucking diligently and rubbing hard behind his balls. If he got him shaking again, maybe he’d try for more again.

\---

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, banging his head back against the wall. This time deliberately. His cock was throbbing, but thankfully his release earlier was helping this to last. He would have lost it already if not for that. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He was writhing desperately, all semblance of a rhythm in his movements lost.

\---

That was even better than the groaning. He kept it up and when he knew he couldn’t be too far from his end, he dared to slide his fingers down by his entrance again. He rubbed it firmly but didn’t press in at all, simply massaging it the same way he was massaging the other place he liked so well.

\---

He drew in shuddering breath and though some part of him wanted to slap him, the thought disappeared as soon as it drifted in. He cried out as he started to spill, that little extra was more than he could handle and as soon as the tension left his body, he sank down, his knees finally failing.

\---

He swallowed down everything he had to give before Reaper suddenly sank in front of him. When the two of them were kneeling together, his hand found his cheek. He leaned in and he was kissing him again, already wanting to hear him cry like that again. 

\---

He returned the kiss, as absently as ever, but this time he had a reason. He was still dazed in the afterglow. He could taste himself on his lips, but he scarcely registered that as well.

\---

“Take me to the bed?” He asked against his lips. He would be needing his mouth so he didn’t want to find the visor just to get over to the bed. “I’ll make you feel good again.” What had he said before? He’d be his slut until he grew tired of him, or something like that.

\---

He looked at him and though it made him sick, he, with exceptional effort, stood. He grabbed him by the arm and used it to drag him to his feet, then to steady himself as he walked them over to the bed. When they reached it, he sat down on the edge of it, still recovering from what had been the most exceptional blowjob he’d ever experienced.

\---

Soldier sat at his side once they found the bed and unbuttoned his pants. He was straining inside and he needed to relieve a little pressure. He realized as he did so that the gun was gone, fallen to the floor. He drew a slow breath, knowing it was too soon to touch Reyes again. He’d be too sensitive right now.

\---

He saw what he was doing and he fixed his eyes elsewhere. He wasn’t interested in that part of him. Not in the slightest. He was delusional if he thought he would be returning the favor. 

\---

He sat in silence with him until he thought enough time had passed. Then he reached over to find his thigh and gave it a squeeze. “Ready?” He wouldn’t touch him anywhere else if he was still too sensitive.

\---

He was a little warier of what he had in mind. He’d felt considerably more comfortable when his cock had been ignored. Still… he wanted him to do what he’d done again. To make him feel good again, as he’d said. He hummed his response, affirming that he was ready as he was going to be right now.

\---

“Lay on your back.” He wanted him relaxed. As relaxed as he could be in his presence, anyway. He withdrew his hand to give him space to move.

\---

There was a delay before he did as he was told. He shoved his pants the rest of the way off so he was naked and shifted back to lay in the middle of the bed with his head on the pillows. He watched him, waiting to see what he would do.

\---

When he was down, he used his hands to navigate himself between Reaper’s thighs. He lowered himself and when he found his cock, he began to lick it slowly. He didn’t want to draw it into his mouth, instead treating it to only concentrated attention from his tongue until he thickened again. 

\---

He watched him, the sight of the man licking him so satisfying. It was genuinely the most degrading thing for him to be doing and here he was, licking him like the slut he’d accused him of being. He tucked his arms beneath his head, propping it up as he took in the simple, but intense sensation. He was still sensitive so even the licks were a lot for him to take. His breaths were measured as he slowly and steadily stiffened for him.

\---

He kept it up until he was hard and once he was, he let his hand take over. His strokes were firm but smooth from what lubrication his saliva provided. With his other hand, he lifted his sack enough to run his tongue over that sensitive little place he’d shown him just behind it. 

\---

His brows furrowed and then his eyes shut, taking in a sharp breath when he felt his tongue there. Without thinking about it, his legs parted further and his feet pulled to rest flat on the bed on either side of him.

\---

That was just what he’d wanted him to do. He could reach more easily now and he lapped at it in firm, slow strokes while his hand pumped his cock slowly and expertly.

\---

Eventually his eyes shut as his head tipped back. His hand wasn’t as nice as his mouth, but he liked what he was currently doing with it, so he wasn’t complaining. Somehow he’d gone his entire life without ever experiencing this sort of stimulation… The only thing that would make this better was if it was a beautiful woman licking him there… but even then, maybe not.

\---

He kept that up for a time, but eventually he wanted to see if he liked his tongue somewhere else. He gave his cock a squeeze and as he did so, his tongue dipped lower to tease his entrance. He hadn’t wanted his fingers there before, but ultimately it was what had gotten him off last time.

\---

He gasped and his hands shot down from beneath his head. Instead, he grabbed him again, fingers winding back into his hair. He felt that same surge of alarm, but the sensation was so potent that he didn’t stop him. He simply held him in a way as if he was considering stopping him, without actually doing so.

\---

When he grabbed his hair, he expected him to protest. But he said nothing, so after a beat, he resumed what he’d been doing. He licked him diligently, sometimes firmly, sometimes tracing him with just the tip of his tongue. He could feel that he was apprehensive, but he wanted to show him just how good this could be.

\---

His head tipped side to side and he started rocking himself. The same sort of sloppy movements that was him trying to meet both motions. Trying to thrust into his hand and trying to press himself into his tongue. “It’s so good,” he mumbled to himself, nails scratching into his scalp.

\---

Of course it was. Straight guys had no idea what they were missing. He started to stroke him faster, giving him extra stimulation before he tried anything new. He started to press his tongue into him, knowing that intrusion was not uncomfortable the way a finger might be to a virgin in this territory. 

\---

He moaned, his back arching as he felt what had to be the strangest sensation he’d ever experienced. At least it felt that way in the heat of the moment. His brows furrowed deeply as he squirmed beneath him. “I’m not…” The words trailed off into nothing. Into heaving breaths.

\---

He imagined he was going to inform him that he wasn’t going to want that. But the protest had died on his lips apparently. He started to fuck him with his tongue, his hand pumping him fervently to help him adjust to the new sensation. It was very different than what he knew, but he was sure he would like it.

\---

He grit his teeth, holding back the sounds that wanted to escape. The moans that were gathering in the back of his throat. He rolled his hips down onto his tongue and when his hair wasn’t enough, he abandoned it to grip the sheets instead, curling it up into his fists with a white-knuckled grasp.

\---

He wanted to make him cum this way. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to, considering how unsure he’d been about being touched here at all. But the way he was writhing beneath him, he thought he could get him there. Part of him wished he could see his face right now, but there was something kind of nice about being in the dark through this. He could imagine he was enjoying it more than he possibly was.

\---

In some ways it was more intense than what he’d already given him and in some ways it was less. Either way, after having cum twice that day, it took a long time for it to build. A long time of him writhing and steadily losing his battle against his moans, which were filling the silence more and more.

\---

He didn’t mind the slow build. He’d always wanted to do this for him and he doubted it was going to happen again after today. He enjoyed every moan he pulled from him and he worked him relentlessly, knowing the tension would build in time.

\---

After long enough, he body bucked and he came with another cry. There was a tearing sound as the sheets split beneath his fingers from tugging them so hard. By the time it was over, he was panting so harshly it sounded as if he’d run around the block this entire time, rather than laid there being pleasured.

\---

He was a little surprised by the tearing sound but he quickly realized it was the sheets being destroyed. He worked him through that orgasm and when it was over, he pulled away but only a little. He rested his head against his thigh, giving himself a little chance to recover after that performance. 

\---

When he got a handle on himself, he looked down at him, his expression unreadable. He had no idea where any of that had come from… but god, was it good. “Slut,” he remarked, but for the first time, the insult was… almost light. He reached for him again and this time his hand rested atop his head. A much gentler touch than any other he’d offered him thus.

\---

“Yeah, yeah.” He wasn’t going to remark that it wasn’t all that slutty when Reyes was the only person he wanted to do that for. He felt the hand in his hair and he was expecting a twist or a vicious tug. But it just rested there, which was a pleasant surprise. 

\---

His lips lifted slightly. He let his head fall back to look up at the ceiling. He stared at it, staying as he was, though he did eventually let his legs straighten back out. He had no idea where to go from here, but he wasn’t that worried about it. He felt so fantastic and he wanted that feeling to stay for as long as it could.

\---

“There’s more I can show you if you want.” He murmured eventually to break the silence. With his leg straight, it was easier for Jack to rest his head against it and really, he could have fallen asleep that way if they stayed as they were much longer. “You’ve liked everything I’ve shown you so far.”

\---

“...Why do I feel like I know what you’re talking about?” What else was left? Was he seriously suggesting something like that? He wanted to be insulted that he would even think it and some part of him was. Extremely. The other part of him was thinking about how incredible he’d made him feel so far.

\---

“Because you probably do.” He still spoke in a soft murmur, like he could simply fall asleep as he was between his legs. “You probably didn’t think you’d like the other things today, but I’d be willing to bet I’ve made you feel better than any woman.” They didn’t know what felt best, they were at a disadvantage. 

\---

So far, this had only been degrading for Morrison. Everything he’d done had been at his own expense… What he was suggesting was the opposite. It felt like the most degrading thing _he_ could do. Let this fucker have his way with him. As if he hadn’t already done that to some degree. 

“I’m not gay.” Despite what all of this would suggest. Even if he was right that a woman had never made him feel like this.

\---

“Didn’t say you were.” He was well aware that he wasn’t gay, but that hadn’t stopped him from getting off from a man three times that day. “It not about whether or not you’re gay. It’s about how good it feels.”

\---

He was silent. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to be angry… but he wasn’t. He wanted to throw him down and beat him, to show him who was the dominant one. The one who should be doing the fucking, if either of them were going to fuck the other. He wasn’t really interested in fucking him, though. He’d rather be sucked again, if those were his options. 

That wasn’t what he was offering though and some part of him was interested. If his tongue felt like that good, then what would _that_ feel like?

\---

It was promising that he wasn’t protesting. His hand moved up and started to rub him again almost lazily. He'd be easier to convince if he was hard again, but he was so relaxed as they were right now. "We can try it and if you don't like it, we'll stop."

\---

Rather than say anything, he used the hand on his head to take a handful of hair and drag him up by it. Back to his cock. Showing him that he was in control, even as he steadily wore down his walls. The fact that they’d come even this far was… wrong. The man was supposed to be suffering, but instead he was letting him have what he wanted. He was considering letting him have even more.

\---

He could feel where Reaper was guiding him and he took him into his mouth, sucking him with the same slow, relaxed feel as his hand had been using. They would need some kind of lube and he doubted they had any stocked for such an occasion. They might have to improvise with oil.

\---

That was better and he let out a satisfied sigh when he started to suck him again. He was so sensitive that even that had him squirming slightly, his hips shifting this way and that. He dug his fingers into his hair, showing him how much he was enjoying it.

\---

He sucked him until he was properly hard again, enjoying just how responsive he was after getting off so many times. Then he pulled off, letting his hand take over again. "Think there's some oil or something in the kitchen? If not, it'll hurt at first." Not that he didn't think Reaper was the sort of man who liked some pain with his pleasure. As if to emphasize this, he gave his hip bone a nip. 

\---

He looked down at him, hesitating. “...Probably.” They usually kept non-perishable foods at these safe houses, but it was probably a safe bet that there was some oil sitting around. 

\---

"If you want it, go get it." He knew he wanted it, but he'd take a dry fuck if necessary. To sweeten the proposition, he gave him another brief but hard suck, then pulled off him again. 

\---

He made a sound at the tempting suck. With another hesitation, he pushed himself up. Once there was some distance between them, he glanced him over, somewhat glad his pants were still on, though he imagined by the time he came back, they might be gone. He left the room and went to look for the oil, every step surreal. When he had it, he returned, but rather than lay back down, he stood at the edge of the bed, holding it out to him.

\---

Jack had sat up while he was away, but he hadn't undressed any further. When he heard him return but not climb back onto the bed, his head turned up toward him. "Did you find some?" 

\---

At the question, he tossed it at him, so it landed in his lap. He looked him over again, his expression conflicted. He ought to grab the gun and this time, actually shoot him. Get it over with. He didn’t deserve the air he stole… Every breath was an insult. He ought to, but he didn’t. 

\---

He felt the bottle hit his lap and he picked it up. It would be better than only saliva for lubrication. "Lay down…" He reached for him and found his arm, giving him a tug. 

\---

He slowly sat down, then eased himself into the same spot he’d laid before. He looked up at him, his eyes searching his face. He believed him. Hell, even back then he’d always wondered. Maybe it was vain to wonder if the man had a thing for him, but… he’d wondered it all the same. He wouldn’t have cared either way, except to enjoy the ego boost, but he couldn’t help but wonder why now.

Was this really some misguided attempt to repent? 

\---

When he laid down, Jack opened the bottle and slickened his fingers with some of the oil. Then he settled back down between Reaper’s thighs and started to suck him again. It was always best to ease into this sort of thing and he started by massaging that place behind his sack that he liked so much. 

\---

He continued to watch him as he started to work him again. He preferred him like this. With that smart mouth of his occupied with his cock. “Fuck,” he breathed when he started to rub him. “Why does that feel so fucking good?” He’d had no idea that such a spot was waiting to be touched.

\---

"Just wait." He pulled off long enough to murmur before sucking him again. He kept pressure on that spot with his thumb, then slid his fingers back to massage his entrance. It was much easier now with the oil to help his fingers move smoothly. 

\---

He groaned. If he’d just keep that up, he didn’t need anything further. Just his mouth and his fingers, Working him in so many sensitive places. There was only one spot neglected at this point and though it was not normally how he’d touch himself, he moved a hand to his nipple and gave it a painful pinch with another sound and squirm. 

\---

When he thought he had him warmed up enough to go further, he slowly slid a single finger inside of him. He curled it, knowing just where to rub him, listening and feeling for his reactions. 

\---

He sucked in a sharp breath when he felt the finger slide in and he tensed, but as soon as he touched the right spot, a surprised, slow groan fell from his lips. When he realized his eyes were shut, he forced them to open and he stared down at him, bewildered by what he was feeling.

\---

After giving him a little time to adjust to the shock, he pulled off with his mouth, using only his fingers to please him inside and out. "Good?" He asked, but the groan had answered that question. It was good and he was only getting started. 

\---

At that point, he’d pulled his knees up again, letting them part so he could continue what he was doing to him. “Yes,” he sighed, the pleasure clouding his thoughts. He was rocking himself, his body moving in ways that it never had before. He couldn’t get enough and the other had him writhing once again.

\---

That was better. With his knees up he could angle his finger better and he began to thrust inside him. He'd liked the rubbing, but he thought he'd like this even more.

\---

His hands gripped the sheets again, finding spots that were still intact, but were not like to remain that way. He was gripping it tightly, rocking against his finger. It felt strange, but it gave him even more pleasure and in the heat of it, that was all he cared about. 

\---

He could feel his hips meeting him and knew he was ready for more. He slid a second finger inside of him, fucking him firmly with both of them. His own cock was starting to ache, but he continued to ignore it for the time being. 

\---

He hissed initially, but it wasn’t long before that was making him moan too. It felt so incredible his toes were curling and his back was arching. He’d thought that spot beneath his balls was something, but this was so much more intense and he was lost. Especially considering he’d already cum twice within the last hour. 

\--- 

He was enjoying the feeling of his body tensing and the sounds he made and again part of him wished he could see him. He used the fingers in him to stretch him, working him hard until he thought he was ready for the next step. He pulled away from him rather suddenly, starting to work his pants down.

\---

He made a sound of protest when he stopped, but when he saw what he was doing, his breathing stopped. He couldn’t help but stare at his cock when he released it and when he remembered that he needed to inhale, he did so heavily. He shifted slightly, as if trying to get comfortable, as if uncertain, but stayed as he was.

\---

When he was undressed, he groped for the oil again and when he found it, he coated his arousal with it. It felt good to finally touch himself after all that, but he only did so for a moment. He climbed up his body and when he found his lips, he kissed him hard, his slickened fingers wrapping around him to stroke him. 

\---

His heart pounded as he came over him, but he returned the kiss just as hard. He let go of the sheets and grabbed him instead, his fingers digging into his back.

\---

He wasn’t pushing him away. That was better than he expected, even if he'd taken his time to warm him up to this. He moved his hand to position himself and without giving him time to tense up or second guess it, he pushed inside. He was slow and when he was all the way in, he stayed there to let him adjust. 

\---

He groaned, his toes tightening as he stretched around him. The surrealness of this reached its height as the man laid over him, completely sheathed inside of him. His nails scratched into him and when that wasn’t enough to express himself, he bought a hand in to grip his jaw painfully tight. It ended their kiss as he glared at him, wishing in the heat of the moment that he could see. That he could see the loathing in his eyes and that it might be returned.

\---

He seemed to be staring back, even if his eyes were sightless. The kiss was broken, but he'd heard the groan and when he felt he'd had enough time to adjust his hips began to move. His hands found Reaper’s knees and pushed them back, forcing him to angle his hips in a way that he could hit the tender place inside him he'd been working with his fingers. 

\---

The look in his eyes changed. Still glaring, but there was another dimension to it. Lust. It had been there all along, but it was beginning to overwhelm even the hate. It felt so fucking strange to be positioned like this. Like a woman… But it felt so fucking good as soon as he started to pound him in the right spot. He kept his hand on his jaw, holding it so tightly it would bruise as well, letting his harsh breaths play against the other man’s lips.

\---

Jack groaned, finally having pleasure for himself. He fucked him wildly, his fingers likely leaving bruises of their own on Reaper’s knees. It had been a long time and knowing it was Reyes beneath him made the pleasure all the more potent. 

\---

He wasn’t long until he was crying out. He had to let go of him. To slide his hand down between them and stroke himself, giving himself what he needed. He was trying to rock as much as he could, to make every slam of their hips that much harder. He cursed, his other hand tightening on his back. Holding the man to him so their bodies writhed together.

\---

It was so good to hear him fall apart like this. He could hardly believe that this was really happening. That he was really fucking him and that he was _loving_ it. His hands abandoned his knees to clutch at the ruined sheets while he pounded him with everything he had. 

\---

Even after his hands moved, Reaper kept his knees tightly tucked. Leaving himself completely open to him. “Jack,” he cried, stroking himself feverishly. He was beside himself, awash in sensation. The last dregs of hatred were washed away and all that mattered was that he keep fucking him like this.

\---

"Gabe…" He'd never even fantasized hearing his name cried like that, not by Reaper. He was pulling at the sheets, trying to get a solid grip on something so he could fuck him even harder. 

\---

He growled suddenly when one of his thrusts hit him _just_ right. He stopped stroking himself, squeezing his cock hard, his eyes rolling back. The slam had him close to cumming and rather than push himself there, he was trying to stop it. Then the next slam hit the same spot and the sound he made was desperate, squeezing his cock so hard it hurt. 

\---

He was encouraged by those sounds and kept ramming him the same way, wanting to throw him over the edge. He was throbbing and he couldn't hold out much longer, but he refused to give in to his own release until he showed Reyes just how good this could be. 

\---

With a final cry, he gave in. As soon as he resumed stroking himself, he came hard. He didn’t have nearly as much seed to spill this time, but somehow it was his most powerful orgasm thus. He was beside himself as his body took on a mind of its own, bucking in the heat of it.

\---

That was exactly what he'd been wanting to feel. He managed to keep his pace despite the erratic bucking and with a few final thrusts he groaned, filling Reaper with his much needed release. It was incredible and he panted harshly as he gave him every bit he had. 

\---

The feel of his seed was strange, but in the heat of the moment, the warmth added to his pleasure. Drew it out even longer. When his legs finally fell, he was drunk with it. Laying on his back, his dazed eyes staring at nothing in particular.

\---

When he was finished, he pulled out of him and collapsed on the mattress at his side. His breathing was slowing, but his mind was still trying to catch up with what just happened. He'd just fucked Reyes and the man had been beside himself with pleasure. There was no way he'd want more, not after how many times he'd gotten off that day, but the fact that it happened at all was amazing. 

\---

It was a relief when he moved away from him and though he was still laying at his side, the space was appreciated. He was too weak to do anything other than pant for air. He shut his eyes as his body started to cool down. He was exhausted in the deepest sense of the word and he felt like he was going to fall asleep any moment.

\---

Jack closed his eyes as well. Pent up as he'd been, the afterglow of his release was so deeply satisfying. He was tired and for the moment, he felt so good that he could easily ignore the way his face ached. 

\---

It wasn’t long before he was sleeping, his body and mind completely relaxed for the first time since he’d woken up in that cell. He was a mess of sweat and cum, but that was a problem for later. 

\---

Everything was quiet and as he listened to the other man's breathing, he realized that he must have gone to sleep. He felt like he should get up and move to the other bed, but right now that felt like entirely too much work. He breathed a sigh and before long he was sleeping at his side. 


	4. Chapter 4

When Jack woke, his face was aching again. He groaned and instinctively reached for his visor, but his hand fell on another man's chest instead. His initial dazed thought was that it was Vincent, even after so many years. But it didn't take him long to remember where he was or who he was with. Reyes.

\---

The touch roused him and he made a sound as he shifted and then stretched. His eyes cracked open and he looked down at the hand on his chest. He was confused initially, his eyes following his arm to the man lying beside him. He remembered everything that had happened… earlier. He wasn’t sure how long had passed and whether it was the next day or simply late the same day. The light from the window seemed to suggest the former. 

With a frown, he pushed his hand off of him. 

\---

It was definitely Reyes and he withdrew the hand to instead touch his own face. It was tender and about as swollen as he expected. He needed some water and though a painkiller would be nice, he doubted he'd find any in the house they were in. 

\---

He shifted away from him and sat up with a grunt. He looked down at himself and at the cum that had dried on him. Without a word, he slipped off the bed and made his way out of the room, leaving Morrison alone as he retreated to the bathroom to take a shower.

\---

Jack heard him go and when he was alone, he felt around for his pants and pulled them back on. Next he went about finding his visor, which was a much more challenging task. Once he had that, he made his way to the kitchen for water. Maybe he could find painkillers if he dug around enough. 

\---

The shower itself would’ve been quick if it wasn’t for the fact that he was standing there in thought the entire time. His motions were absent as he washed himself and even after he was finished, he remained there until the water started to run cold. Only then did he step out and dry off. He would have to dig through the supplies to find something to wear - he didn’t want to put back on the clothes that had been given to him by Dr. Zieglar. 

While in the bathroom, he took the opportunity to clean up his beard with the supplies he found and then, with the towel around his waist, he left to find something to put on.

\---

Jack's rummaging had led him to find a small cache of medical supplies and he was glad to find an anti-inflammatory and painkiller. He was usually very careful with dosing considering the state of his heart, but he didn’t think he'd be leaving this house alive anyway so he tossed a handful of pills into his mouth and washed them down with his glass of water. That would help. 

\---

The supplies were all kept in the same area, so he found Jack swallowing his pills. He didn’t ask what they were for - he didn’t need to. He didn’t say anything at all as he started to rummage himself, looking for something that would fit first, then hopefully for something he’d prefer if he had the option.

\---

He settled his visor back into place and saw Reyes looking through the supplies. "Should drink some water. You...lost a lot of fluids." An impressive amount, really. 

\---

He paused in his search. “Hmph.” He continued what he was doing, digging until he found some clothes that would work. He considered putting them on there, but made his way back to the other room for some privacy to dress. He dumped the towel on the floor and then made his way to the kitchen to get himself that drink. 

\---

It was a more civil response than he expected. He waited until he heard him in the kitchen, then headed for the bedroom. His gaze fell on the gun on the floor, but only briefly. If Reaper was tired of him, maybe he'd get around to using it. He went back to the bed he'd claimed the night before and sat down, at a loss for what to do. 

\---

He drank his water and when he’d fill himself up on it, he leaned into the edge of the counter, his forearms resting on the surface. He stared at it, similarly at a loss. His ass was aching from what they’d done and he couldn’t settle on how humiliated he was about that. 

He stayed like that for a time, but eventually the stillness was broken when he slammed his fist into the counter. That made the healing cut in his skin flare with pain and he sighed - how long before his powers returned? Including his accelerated healing?

\---

He heard the strike and looked toward the door. Reyes was angry - maybe that meant the end was near. Maybe he was embarrassed by everything they'd done. Maybe that would be enough to make him shoot him. 

\---

He didn’t know what to think. What to feel. Everything Morrison had said and done didn’t change anything. It didn’t change his betrayal, no matter how bad he felt about it. No matter how much he was trying to make up for it now. He couldn’t let the man walk out of here alive. He couldn’t. 

So… until he was ready to kill him, they were stuck.

\---

It was hard to wait. Even as ready as he felt for his execution, it was uncomfortable to just sit and wait for it. His eyes fell on the bottle of oil they used earlier and he moved to pick it up, toying with it between his hands. 

\---

Eventually he left the kitchen. Looking for him. He wasn’t surprised to find him in the bedroom. He folded his arms and looked at him, noting what he had in his hands. His expression twitched and his eyes fixed elsewhere. He looked as if he was trying to speak, but like words were failing him.

\---

He watched him and he could see that he was struggling. "Reyes, it's fine. You don’t have to be gay to like it." He didn't think he should be embarrassed, but then, he wasn't embarrassed about being gay either. 

\---

His expression shifted suddenly. As if startled. That wasn’t at all what he'd been struggling with, at least not since entering the room. He flushed slightly. “That… never happened.” It had, though. He’d fucked him. He’d fucked Jack Morrison. The man that he hated most. He’d let him fuck him. 

\---

"It did. I told you you'd like it." He'd loved it, but he was a straight guy, so of course he'd struggle with it. "It doesn't mean anything."

\---

“Then why the fuck did you do it?” As if he was the only one that had participated. Reaper was painfully aware that he’d participated just as much, even if he’d let the other man do most of the work.

\---

"I wanted to make you feel good." He gave him a little shrug. "I wanted to show you something amazing you hadn't experienced before."

\---

“ _Why?_ ” he repeated, since that didn’t answer his question. “You ruined me and you thought you’d make it up to me by blowing me?” He sounded angry and he was. He was extremely angry, but his problem was forming that anger around anything solid. _Into_ anything solid.

\---

"I'm not stupid, I know I can't make it up to you." There was no fixing something like that. "I told you I used to want you. You put your balls in my mouth and...well, you know what happened from there. I wanted you then and I do now."

\---

His flush deepened at the reminder that he’d started it. He hadn’t meant it to go the way it had, but he had started it. “You don’t,” he denied, so flustered by him. “You hate me. I destroyed Overwatch. I killed everyone I could. I will continue to kill everyone I can. We’re enemies.” The frustration was coming back. The need to hit him until he stopped acting like this stranger.

\---

"I want you." He argued with a shake of his head. "I've spent the entire day showing you that. If you still doubt it, take your pants off and lay back down. I'll show you what this many years of wanting looks like."

\---

The fold of his arms tightened. “Jack, you wanted me dead.” There was something different in his voice. It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t even anger. It was… vulnerable. He needed to hear him say it. That the years hadn’t been a lie. That the brief interactions they’d had through the years in which they both tried to kill each other hadn’t been false. He needed him to say it.

\---

"It was easier than dealing with what I did. What I tried to do." He looked down at the floor with a sigh. He wasn’t going to deny that he'd wanted him dead. "I'm ready to take responsibility. That's why I let you out. That's why I gave you the gun so you could shoot me. None of that ever changed that I wanted you."

\---

He was relieved. He felt like he still had a tether keeping him grounded. Slowly, he moved closer to the bed and then he sat down on the edge of it. His hands moved to grip the mattress, his eyes fixed in front of him. “Then don’t lie to me. It means something to you.” If what he was saying was true, then it did. 

\---

"It means something to me. I meant it doesn't mean anything for you. That you could enjoy what we did and it doesn't make you gay." But it seemed Reyes was struggling with more than just that. 

\---

“I know it doesn’t.” It confused him that he could enjoy it the way he had whilst not being attracted to men, but he knew he wanted women. This didn’t change that. He was still a bit humiliated about it, but the fact that he’d fucked a man was taking a backseat to the fact that he’d fucked _that_ man. 

“I-” The words trailed off and he shook his head to himself, his teeth clenched.

\---

He studied him for a long moment. He could see he was having a hard time articulating what he needed to. "Go on, say what you need to say."

\---

“...You fuck up everything.” He’d started this and now he’d ruined what they’d had. His whole reason for living had been revenge. He’d somehow stolen that from him too. “I’d rather you hate me.” Instead, he was telling him that he wanted him. What did that even mean? That he had some fantasy of them staying together? Was he going to help him take down Overwatch now?

\---

"I can't, though. I tried. I still want you." Hating him was so much simpler. Trying to kill each other was so much cleaner than...whatever this mess was. 

\---

“You’re pathetic.” And right now, so was he. Sitting beside him, talking in circles, not accomplishing anything. “It should have been me. Not you.” Everything would be different. “You didn’t deserve it and you…” He trailed off, his eyes falling. “...I’m tired.” Of all of this. 

\---

"Yeah. I know, Gabe." He didn't deserve any of it. He was tired too. That was why he'd made the insane decision to release Reaper in the first place.

\---

His shoulders slowly sank. He just sat there in silence, his eyes fixed on his knees. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d sat with him. It had been a long time. They’d stopped being friends by the time he’d decided to turn him in. They’d stopped talking, instead arguing about anything and everything about Overwatch. 

They had been so close, until one day they weren’t. 

—

"...I'm sorry." He'd said before that apologies were pointless and he knew there was no fixing anything. But this was a little different. He meant it, truly, and he thought the other might be in a place right now to hear it. Even if he couldn’t accept it, it might mean something. 

\---

“Yeah.” It was so ridiculous that some part of him wanted to laugh again, but he couldn’t even bring himself to do that. It wasn’t that funny. It was mostly sad. All his anger had seeped away and now he felt… empty. 

—

He was quiet and eventually he leaned into him a little. Normally he would know that such a companionable gesture would not be welcome. But right now, he could use a little support and he thought Gabe probably could too. 

\---

At first he simply took his weight, but then let Morrison take his in return. He took a slow breath and his hands squeezing the edge of the mattress. He was also silent, his eyes shutting. 

—

He closed his eyes as well, comfortable sharing their weight this way. He could feel the tension in the mattress beside his leg and eventually his hand settled on Reaper’s. Maybe he would relax a little. 

\---

His hand tightened even more initially, but then he eased up. He stayed like this for a long time, the same thoughts circling his head over and over. The same thoughts that had brought him to tears. So heavy, he struggled to bear it. 

“...Remember when they wouldn’t let us drink in SEP? Didn’t want it fucking with what they were doing to us… and we decided we were tired of staying dry, so we snuck out?”

\---

Despite everything, Jack felt the corners of his lips turn up. "Just a couple drinks. That was all it was supposed to be." He remembered that night well. One of many occasions that they got into trouble together. 

\---

“Well, you had such a stick up your ass, I was surprised you were willing to come at all.” He had, but only on the condition that it was only a couple. Then a couple passed and they’d kept on drinking. It probably marked the beginning of their friendship. When they’d actually started to spend time together outside of training. “Wasn’t hard to get you to drink more once we were there, though.”

\---

"Then they came looking for us and we hid in the back of that truck." Which of course, didn’t stay parked once they were in it. "Then we were drunk _and_ lost."

\---

“Your idea, not mine.” He hadn’t been as worried about being caught, though he probably should have been. They’d wound up in trouble either way, but better that it hadn’t been _at_ the bar. “You puked in the truck, didn’t you?” Or had that been him? It occurred to him that he couldn’t remember who had puked, just that there had been puke. It had to have been Jack, though - he thought he could hold his liquor even in the back of a wobbling truck.

\---

"...I might have. That part of the night is a little blurry for me." He wasn’t quite as good at holding his liquor. "The next thing I remember is being out on a farm when the truck stopped."

\---

“I tried to convince you that we could get back if we just stole a couple of horses.” It had been a dumb drunken thought, but it was a plan he’d been excited about executing. He’d wandered all the way to the barn... only to find it occupied by cows. 

\---

"Yep, but they were short on horses. So I started giving you my farm boy education on how to take proper care of cattle." The cows hadn't been all that impressed with him in their pen. 

\---

A faint chuckle fell from his lips. “I made you show me how to milk one of them.” He remembered that. He couldn’t remember a single thing he’d said about the cows, but he did remember being suddenly determined to learn how to milk a cow. Should he ever need to milk a cow again. 

\---

"...Yeah. How confused do you think that guy was to find a pail of milk in the cow pen the next morning?" He'd found a pail in the barn for the demonstration, but hadn't bothered to discard it when they were done. 

\---

“Probably as confused as he was about the puke in his truck.” His eyes opened and he looked over at him. “It was pointless. We still got into trouble… but I guess I learned how to milk a cow.” 

\---

"And I got to be a farm boy again for a minute." It had been fun. "We almost stumbled our drunk asses back before they found us on the road." Lost and drunk as they were, they had almost found their way back before they were apprehended. 

\---

He hummed. “...It was worth it.” For the drinks alone, but even their unintended trip had been fun. Something that they’d laughed about for years after. Along with the other dumb shit they’d done together. Jack always had that stick up his ass, but… it had never been all that hard to convince him to come along for a ride. 

\---

"Did you ever get to milk a cow after that night?" It had seemed so important to both of them in the moment that Reyes learned the skill. Maybe it had come in handy after all. 

\---

He snorted. “No, of course not.” When would that have ever come up again? He looked away again, his eyes solemn. It had been him and Jack for the longest time, but over time that had changed. In a way, McCree had replaced Morrison, but their relationship had been different. Close, but not the same. Now he wanted McCree dead too, but the cowboy hadn’t even done anything to him. 

There were so many people he wanted dead. People who had once meant something to him. That he shared so many memories with. Now what did he have? Nothing.

\---

"Damn." He had doubted it, but it would have been funny. "You never know. You might wind up stranded on a mission somewhere with only a cow for sustenance." 

\---

“I don’t drink milk.” He could probably feed off the cow, though. “If you haven’t caught on, I don’t drink anything.” Or eat anything. Or enjoy anything. ...Except for the other man sucking his cock. He’d enjoyed that.

He’d like to think he’d enjoy killing him too, but… it was unlikely now.

\---

“Oh…” He hadn’t realized that, not paying attention to such details when he’d been in Dr. Zieglar’s care. “Well, I guess that wasn’t the most useful thing I taught you that night. Maybe you got more out of my lecture on grooming and hoof inspection.” 

\---

His lips quirked again. “I can’t remember a word you said.” He eased away from him, but only to lay back. He stared up at the ceiling, noting every little flaw in the white surface. 

\---

He pulled off his visor, deciding he’d be more comfortable without it laying down, then laid back at his side. “Well, shit. I bet we could find a farm out here somewhere. I could give you a refresher on cattle husbandry.”

\---

He saw what he did out of the corner of his eye. He found that curious. Wouldn’t he want to see? Even if there wasn’t anything interesting to look at? “Like you even remember anything.” He probably did, but it had been so long, he was sure some of the finer details were lost.

\---

“Some things you never forget, but you’re right, I could probably use a refresher course myself.” Even laying down, he was closer than he needed to be. 

\---

“Or we could let the blind lead the blind.” He’d said it entirely unintentionally, but once it hit him, he laughed. It was in poor taste, but… that’s exactly what made it funny.

\---

Jack couldn’t help but laugh with him. The pause made it clear that the pun hadn’t been intended and that made it funnier. “Well, that would make for an interesting day on the farm, wouldn’t it?”

\---

He looked over at him again. It was still easier when he knew he wasn’t looking back. “...Why’d you never let them replace your eyes? Some biotic eyes, or whatever.” The visor worked well enough, it seemed, but it would be easier to have something surgically added, would it?

\---

“I let Dr. Zieglar do what she needed to keep me alive, nothing more.” His ruined eyes seemed to be looking up toward the ceiling. “She offered to try biotics, but it would be at the risk of ruining my optic nerves and being completely blind. Right now they’re functional enough that I can still see with the visor. That’s enough.” 

\---

He hummed. “...What was she going to do to me?” He wondered if he would tell him. He’d thought the worst, of course, but now that he was no longer there, it didn’t matter either way. Still, he wanted to know what would have happened if he’d been unable to escape.

\---

“Try her damndest to heal your wounds.” It probably wasn’t possible, but she wouldn’t have given up. “She never really expressed her exact goal, at least not to me. Just to help you.”

\---

He made a skeptical sound. She had helped him, though. The reduction in pain was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He was still wrapping his head around it. There seemed to be no side effects, though he was still worried about the long term effects of what she’d done to him. 

“Fucking with my brain against my will wasn’t helping me.” It had made him snap, even if he was now _somewhat_ grateful for the result.

\---

“Her intentions were good.” Which was better than what he could say for most people he knew in most cases. Himself included. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re out of her reach.”

\---

“For now, she’s out of mine.” He would kill her. One day. He would kill all of them. He needed to. There was no choice for him anymore. At least, that was what he told himself. There was no choice in this, either. He would kill him too…

\---

“For now.” That was good. He hoped Mercy stayed far, far away from him. He was the most important person on his list anyway, so maybe his death would buy her some time before Reaper started hunting the others down. 

\---

For now, he was tired. He shut his eyes again. He’d already slept a lot, but the exhaustion wasn’t physical. It wasn’t even entirely mental. It was emotional. He was burnt out and he couldn’t imagine doing anything but laying as he was, his heavy heart thumping hard.

\---

When the silence went on, Jack eventually turned to his side to face him and settled up against his side. He wanted to be close. He was the last person Reyes probably wanted to be close to, but he was craving the contact and it had been at least somewhat welcome when they were sitting up.

\---

He felt him shift, but he stayed as he was. He didn’t try to pull away and he didn’t try to shift closer. He let him do what he wanted, feeling the heat of his body as he pressed into him. It felt… nice. 

\---

He was relieved when he didn’t pull away. “Gabe…” He set a hand lightly on his chest and rested his cheek, which was mercifully less sore now, against his shoulder. 

\---

His head turned toward him and opened his eyes to look at him again. “...What, Jack?” He knew what. He’d said what several times now. He wanted him. 

\---

He didn’t know what, exactly. He was feeling warm toward him, but it just didn’t really make sense. Not when part of him still wanted to hate him. He felt him turn his head so rather than answer, he just leaned forward a little and kissed him.

\---

He’d seen it coming, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He was not, as they’d established, gay, so he shouldn’t be kissing him. He wasn’t interested in him like that. He never had been. He never would be. So he didn’t really know why his own lips pressed back, kissing him in return.

\---

This was so much simpler than talking about what was on his mind. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt and he gripped it as he let himself melt into the kiss. This was what he wanted. 

\---

His hand rose and he set it on the one curled into his shirt. He tipped slightly, turning towards him as he met the kiss deeply. His lips were warm and though his own didn’t meet them as neatly as they would if his mouth wasn’t mangled, it still felt good.

\---

When he turned up toward him, he pulled him in closer and tangled their legs. He wasn't looking to add heat to this at the moment. He just wanted to be closer to him. 

\---

Like their prior kisses, he was the first to break it. Like the previous one, he did so by grabbing his jaw. In spots that were already tender. Except this time, he wasn’t looking at him with hatred. His thumb traced the shape of his lips as he stared at him.

\---

"Gabe…" There was a hint of need in his voice this time. He wanted him to kiss him again. When he clutched his face, he'd been expecting to be pushed away, and violently, but instead he was tracing his lips and the sensual touch gave him a little shiver. 

\---

He continued to run his thumb in a circle around them, then he slowly started to press it into his mouth. His free hand slid out to rest flat against him, feeling the bare skin of his torso.

\---

When he felt his thumb press past his lips, he parted them and ran his tongue slowly over it. His lips closed around his thumb then and gave it a firm suck. Like a good slut, as Reaper had been calling him. 

\---

He hummed, letting him suck on his thumb. When he did eventually draw it out, he ran the now wet thumb across his lips. Then he leaned in and kissed him again, hungrier.

\---

He made a soft sound against his lips, liking that he would initiate the next kiss. He pressed closer and kissed him hard, wishing he wasn't missing part of his lip and their lips could meet more evenly. It wasn’t important and he was so caught up in him, forgetting everything else for the moment. 

\---

He pressed in himself, tightening their tangled legs. He’d said he could show him what years of wanting felt like and… he was interested. He wanted to see what else he had for him. If there was anything else he could surprise him with, or if he’d shown him everything. All his tricks.

\---

"Gabe…" He murmured against his lips, tugging at his shirt. He’d just gotten dressed, but he wanted him bare again. Just getting his pants out of the way wasn't enough. 

\---

He helped him take off his shirt and at that point, he shifted away from him so he could move further onto the bed. He undid his pants and shoved them off, taking off all of the clothing he’d put on. Once he was naked, he considered him. Normally he would take charge in these sort of liaisons, but when it was a man… he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. He wasn’t hungry to touch him, he was hungry to be touched. 

\---

He could hear him undressing and he decided he would get it out of the way as well. He slid off his pants and tossed them aside. He found Reyes and climbed over him, pinning him down with his weight and kissing him hard. 

\---

It was still strange to be in this sort of position. He kissed him back, but his mind was elsewhere. On another memory. Of the handful of times they’d messed around and wrestled one another. He usually won, but there had been a time or two in which the other man had beaten him and it was those thoughts that fueled him to give them a sudden and rough flip. 

“Have to do better than that, Morrison…” He nipped his lip, keeping that underlying sexual tension alive.

\---

He wasn’t at all expecting it and he went to his back easily. He chuckled and used the vantage to grab his ass and squeeze. "You've got a nice ass, Reyes."

\---

It wasn’t the first time his ass had been complimented, but it had been a rare compliment. He definitely hadn’t grabbed that part of him when they’d wrestled before, but he imagined that he’d wanted to. “...Yeah? Is that what you like?” Part of him was genuinely curious. Since he wasn’t into tits, was ass all that did it for him? Is that what it was like for all men like him?

\---

"Not that it's the only thing, but I do like it." He squeezed his ass again, then threw his weight into flipping them again, dangerously close to the edge of the bed. "You've always had a nice ass. You must know it, tight as you like your pants."

\---

His eyes flicked over to the edge of the bed as he found himself riding the line of it. He reached up and though he considered gripping his ass in return, he settled his hands a little higher. His brows lifted and he smirked. “Or I just like tight pants.” He did. They were more comfortable to him than loose fitting pants. They felt more secure, the way they snuggly hugged his thighs. 

\---

"I like them on you too." Not for himself, but he did like to see them on Reyes. He nipped his jaw, liking the feel of his beard against his lips. 

\---

“What else do you like?” Rather than try to surprise him by throwing him the opposite direction, he decided to use his strength. To push them over in a slower, more steady manner. In a manner that invited the other man to challenge him.

\---

Jack met that challenge eagerly. Both them were strong and that led to them being caught between positions. "These…" He moved a hand to run his fingers down his abs. He loved a man with a chiseled stomach. 

\---

He glanced down to where he was touching and made an amused sound. He liked his own abs, sure, but beyond that…? He couldn’t be less interested. The other man had muscles as defined as his own, but they did not appeal to him at all. He liked the soft, smooth curves of a woman’s body. Even a fit woman and their delicately defined muscles were nice, but nothing like what a man looked like. 

He continued to fight him, though Morrison had the advantage of being over him. Eventually he grabbed his arm to try to wretch it in a way that would unsteady him as he tried to flip them.

\---

He chuckled and wrestled him to keep his arm in place as well. His other hand moved down to give his balls a squeeze. Maybe it was cheating, but all was fair as far as he was concerned. 

\---

There was something fun about struggling with him this way, but when the hand found a much more delicate place, he sucked in a sharp breath. For a moment he was still, then he tilted his hips up toward his hand, telling him he liked the hold. He was still struggling half-heartedly, but not near as much while the other had his sack in hand.

\---

He could feel him press into the hold and he massaged him while he pushed him firmly toward his back. "I like these too…" He preferred a shaved sack, but it wasn't something many men bothered with. 

\---

Slowly he sank until he was laying flat, still on the edge of the bed. “I could tell…” The way he’d sucked them. It could probably count on a hand how many women had taken the time to suck on his balls. Never quite like that. Rather than try to fight his arm, he stroked his hand over it.

\---

He was pleased to have won the little wrestling match and kissed him hard. He seemed to be on a similar train of thought. "Has a woman ever worked your balls so well before?"

\---

“...No.” A woman had never done any of the things he’d done so well. Then again, most of what he’d done, a woman had never done to him at all. “Usually just fuck them.” A little sucking, a little fucking. It was never that complicated. Well, at least not until he’d hooked up with Widowmaker. That had been a rather unique experience.

\---

That was the answer he expected. "And is the sex usually as good as it was earlier?" He asked, giving him another squeeze. He didn’t doubt that he'd had some great sex with women, but there was nothing quite like being pounded for the first time. 

\---

“...Sometimes.” Not really. His assumptions were right. He’d had some mind-blowing sex over the years, but nothing quite like that. It was why he was laying here with a man he hated, their bare bodies flush. “What about you? Ever fuck a woman?” Before he’d realized he was gay?

\---

He was skeptical, but maybe it was true. "I did. Even had a girlfriend or two." He smiled slightly. "I don't think any teenage farm boy _wants_ to be gay, so I tried not to be."

\---

“Then you know… pussy feels better than ass.” He’d tried both with women. Pussy was better by a long shot. “You really never want to fuck another woman again?”

\---

"You haven't had good enough ass if you think that." But maybe his aversion to pussy in general made him biased in that regard. "If my options were to only fuck women or go without for the rest of my life, I'd go without."

\---

He snorted. “Or you haven’t had good enough pussy.” He’d rather not have sex at all? “It’s not about being straight, Jack, it’s about how good it feels.” He smirked up at him, smug.

\---

"I tried it. It wasn't that great." He was probably right. There was better pussy out there than the inexperienced girls he'd had in his younger years, but he wasn't interested in finding out. "I like this better." His hand slid up to squeeze his cock.

\---

“No wonder, if you were fucking sixteen year old farm girls.” His eyes flicked down when he squeezed his stiffening cock. “...Why don’t you show me how much you like it?” A hand went to his shoulder and he pushed lightly, showing him what he wanted.

\----

"I think you already know." But he hardly minded showing him again. He started to crawl down his body, kissing his skin as he went. 

\---

His lips had a smooth path down, but eventually he did reach one of the wounds on his hip. His breath caught briefly, but it was still a marvel to him how little it hurt. How Widow had dug her fingers into them and had him screaming himself hoarse. Now it was nothing but a twinge.

\---

He moved on quickly from that spot, feeling him react to it. He finished his teasing journey and wrapped his lips around him when he reached his cock. He hummed softly, enjoying the taste of him even though he'd already gotten a couple opportunities to taste him that day. 

\---

He sighed when the lips slipped around him. He reached for his head like before, his nails rubbing circles into his scalp. This time he parted his thighs without needing any coaxing and the one closest to the edge of the bed slipped off entirely, his foot falling to rest on the floor.

\---

He lowered himself into a comfortable position between his thighs and sucked him, taking his time to enjoy it. His fingers slid behind his balls to rub him at the same relaxed pace. His mind went to the oil and he knew it was still on the mattress somewhere. He hadn't heard it hit the floor during their wrestling, anyway. 

\---

He shut his eyes, picturing someone else. At first he tried to picture Widowmaker, but the man was simply too warm for that to work, so his mind went to the next woman. Moira. That didn’t last but a moment either, moving on down the line, until he was fantasizing about some nameless bitch he’d fucked over a decade ago.

He groaned under his breath, thoroughly enjoying everything ‘she’ was treating him to.

\---

Reaper might be used to "just fucking", but he was in no mood to rush into that part. He was enjoying himself and he didn't think the other was in a hurry to stop this thorough sucking either. He hummed a soft sound around his cock, using the tip of one finger to tease his entrance. 

\---

This time he didn’t tense. This time he wanted to be touched there. “Fuck…” He couldn’t think of a more articulate way to express himself. He rolled his hips eagerly, even at this relaxed, savoring pace.

\---

He was pleased to feel how he didn't shy away from the touch. He massaged him, but since his fingers hadn't been lubricated, he kept them on the outside. He meant to be inside him again soon enough. 

\---

He dragged his fingers through his hair, wishing he had longer locks. To help him pretend. Maybe softer fingers too… though as he rubbed against him, he imagined it wouldn’t be nearly as good without his strong hands. At that point he was thinking about him again and the fantasy was lost. He opened his eyes and looked down to watch him swallow him.

\---

Eventually he pulled off of him, resting his head on his thigh as he had earlier. "Do you want me?" He thought he did. But he also thought he might struggle with admitting it. 

\---

As expected, he said nothing. His hold on his hair lightened, though he kept it there. He wouldn’t be laying here naked and sprawled out if he didn’t want him, but he didn’t really want to admit it. To him or to himself.

\---

He sat back then, his fingers searching the mattress for the bottle of oil. It was fine if he wasn't ready to admit what he wanted. He'd find out whether or not he wanted him again. 

\---

He kept his eyes on him, taking the opportunity to shift over on the bed so he wasn’t hanging off of it. He saw where the oil was and after a while of him struggling to find it, he rolled his eyes and reached for it, pushing it into his hand.

\---

Jack's lips turned up a little when the bottle was pushed into his palm. That was a promising sign. He opened it and poured some onto his fingers. "If you want me to show you something incredible, get on your hands and knees."

\---

He growled, not liking that suggestion. For no other reason than it was a rather submissive position. After everything they’d already done, though, if he was telling him it was going to feel incredible… He shifted, moving to his hands and knees and frowning at the pillows in front of him. 

\---

He could hear his dispute, but his lips turned up even more when he felt him turning on the mattress anyway. He knelt behind him, coating himself in the oil, and used his free hand to squeeze his balls again. "You'll like this."

\---

He glanced back at him over his shoulder, but eventually just shut his eyes. There wasn’t anything to see and once he started, well, it would be hard to imagine a woman. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew the difference in how it felt from Morrison’s position, so maybe it would be the same for him too.

\---

His hand gave him another squeeze for a distraction as he pressed inside of him, not going quite as slow since he stretched him earlier. He angled his hips when he was deep, pressing into his prostate hard. "Feel how much better I can hit it this way?"

\---

His teeth pressed together as he slid inside him. He let out a breath when he felt what he was talking about, though, and then hummed. “Yeah…” He pressed back to add even more pressure, lifting a hand to squeeze his cock.

\---

With that, he started to let him have it. He gripped his hips and used the hold to thrust into him fiercely. With a weaker partner, he'd worry about it being too much, but with Gabe...he thought it would be perfect. 

\---

He gasped and then groaned, having to let go of his cock briefly to brace himself. He did what felt oddly natural and rocked back, slamming his ass back into him as hard as he could. “Oh fuck…” He tried to balance himself on a single hand once more, but ended up buckling and so that he was on his elbow instead. He started stroking himself again, feverish from the start.

\---

He could feel him struggling to keep his balance, but he could also feel him rocking back into him. He knew he'd be able to take a proper pounding like this. He groaned with him, his fingers gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. 

\---

He was beside himself. Making sounds he hadn’t even known he was capable of and burying his face in the bed to try to hide them somewhat. It was so wonderful he was begging incoherently, his hand digging into the sheets again, threatening to tear them.

\---

He wished he'd put his visor on. He couldn’t kiss him in this position anyway and he would _love_ to see him falling apart like this. But it was enough to hear him. He eased up a hand just long enough to give his ass a rough slap, then gripped him again to resume relentlessly ramming into him. 

\---

If it wasn’t in the heat of the moment, he might have said something about the slap. As it was, it was just another sensation. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, needing him to keep doing what he was doing. “Fuck, don’t ever stop.”

\---

"Not until I wear you out, Gabe." He wouldn't stop until the other was a spent heap on the bed, too weak to move. He threw his head back, giving him exactly what he asked for and fucking him wildly. 

\---

It took a delectably long time for it to start to overwhelm him, but when it did, the sheets tore beneath his hand again. He cried out several times in a row, shaking as he spilled suddenly, pressing back against him desperately.

\---

It went on long enough that he was starting to worry that he couldn’t keep his promise. That he would tumble over the edge before he'd brought Reaper to his end, but he was fiercely determined and he managed to keep it up until the very end. Reyes was still spilling when Jack started to fill him up, bucking harshly through his release. 

\---

“God,” he panted against the bed, his face flush and warm. Much warmer than usual. “That feels so fucking good.” He was babbling to himself mindlessly, his body buzzing. He was slumped against the bed, his ass in the air. 

—

Jack pulled out of him, sitting back and panting for air. "I know, it's amazing." He'd known that the complaints about the positioning wouldn't last long once they started. 

\---

He made a sound when he felt him pull out. That in itself felt pleasant. It took a moment for him to gather himself enough to ease down to his stomach, his arms wrapping around a pillow. He sighed, so content. 

—

Jack settled down next to him. He was close, but as before, he gave him a little space. "The sheets are fucked." That was the second pair of sheets they’d torn through. 

\---

“Mm. Their problem, not mine.” He didn’t care about leaving the place trashed. He wasn’t going to leave the place trashed, but if they did, he wouldn’t care. 

—

"It's only a small expense. I'm sure they won't care." Though they may wonder exactly what happened here. He sighed contentedly. 

\---

“Probably not.” They would assume he’d had sex with someone. He wasn’t supposed to have anyone here, but it wasn’t their business and he sure as hell wasn’t going to explain that the person he’d had sex with was Soldier 76. 

—

"I think I could fuck you all day." He murmured, still a little drunk with pleasure. It occurred to him that it was basically all he'd done that day already. 

\---

He looked over at him. “...Me too.” They’d already fucked a lot, but until his cock was raw, he wouldn’t mind continuing to do so. 

—

"Then we'll get back to it. Shortly, anyway. " He said with a little smirk. But first he needed to recover. It wasn’t as if they had anywhere to be, unless Talon was expecting Reaper soon. 

\---

He hummed himself, leaving it at that. He did need time to recover. Especially as many times as he’d cum so far. He didn’t know what he was doing, in truth, but right now he wasn’t going to question it. 


	5. Chapter 5

The following days were a haze of pleasure. He hadn’t known he was capable of getting off so many times in a day, but they simply couldn't get enough of each other. In between their romps, they napped, laughed about the old days, or took the occasional break so they could shower or he could eat. But beyond that, they spent their days and nights having sex. 

He was sore and he was sure that Reyes was too, so for the moment they were laying beside each other and resting. He’d worn his visor for their last coupling, wanting to watch him fall apart, and he was still wearing it while the two of them dozed afterwards. As comfortable as he was, he was thirsty and he reluctantly opened his eyes and started to get up to get some water. That was when he noticed that Reyes was...smoking. 

"Gabe." His tone had a slight note of alarm and he gave him a shake, not sure how far under he would be. 

\---

Reaper had no idea how much time had passed and he wasn’t bothering to keep track. Talon undoubtedly knew of his escape and they were undoubtedly wondering what had happened to him. He hadn’t tried to contact them and he was sure that worried them, but he wasn’t letting it worry him. 

Right now all that mattered to him was pleasure and that was exactly what he was drowning himself in. His body was so sore after days of being worked, but he didn’t doubt that after they slept for a while, they’d be rolling around on the ruined sheets once more. His thoughts were few and far apart when the shake slammed awareness back into him.

He grunted and looked over at him. “What?”

\--- 

"Your wounds. They're…" He wasn't sure what they were doing exactly. But it looked like the black mist that Reaper was famous for. He just hasn't expected to see it seeping from his open wounds. "They're doing the black mist thing."

\---

His eyes opened and he looked down at himself. For a moment he simply laid there expressionlessly, as if it wasn’t quite hitting him. Then a spark entered his eyes and suddenly his shape melted away into thick black smoke which slid gracefully through the air and he reformed standing beside the bed. 

“ _Finally_.”

\---

Jack sat up, looking at him where he reappeared. "Guess whatever she gave you wore off." He wasn't sure what that meant for him, but it probably meant he was going to want to get back to Talon. 

\---

“I need to test it.” If he could do that, he imagined everything was restored, but he wouldn’t know until he checked. He turned to the open door and focused on the other end of the hall. With another swirl of smoke, he disappeared completely and reappeared where he’d chosen. With a smile he strode to the kitchen to find a knife.

\---

He watched as he vanished, then looked down at his discarded clothes. He needed another shower and he wanted to get dressed. But was there much point if this was the end? He was a little anxious, but decided to stay where he was while Reyes tested his restored abilities. 

\---

When he had it, he stood over the sink as he cut into the back of his arm lightly. As it should, the wound sealed and he smiled. He cut deeper, spilling blood into the sink, but after a delay, that too sealed. He rinsed off both his arm and the knife, tossing it aside. He was back to himself… No one would ever touch him again. He was no one’s prisoner. 

He took 76’s idea and made his way to the bathroom to shower. He was a bit of a mess and now that he was wide awake, he wanted to take advantage.

\---

Jack could hear the shower running and took that as another bad omen. He was getting cleaned up because they were finished here. He took a slow breath and let his hands dangle between his knees. 

\---

Once he finished cleaning himself off, he took a little time to clean himself up in the mirror, the sight of his smoking wounds a comfort. After drying himself off, he made his way back to the bedroom to grab his clothes. “...Shower’s free, if you want.” He nodded to the door.

\---

The offer surprised him. Maybe he wanted to let him die with a little dignity. It didn't matter much to him though. "Does this mean you're going back to Talon now?"

\---

He paused in pulling on his pants at the question. He hesitated then simply didn’t answer, changing the subject. “I need to feed.” Which would mean leaving him alone here. At this point, he didn’t think he would run, but… even if he did, then things would simply go back to how they’d been before. He would kill him the first opportunity he got. 

\---

He assumed that didn’t mean on him. He wouldn't tell him. He'd just shoot him and do it. "...Okay. I guess I'll get cleaned up while you do that." Unless he meant to drag him along. 

\---

“...Clean up the sheets while you’re at it.” They’d destroyed all the sheets on every bed and if they were gonna keep using them, then they needed to be cleaned up at least a little. The tears were there to stay, but the sweat and cum could go.

\---

"Yeah, I'll see what I can do." He sounded a little confused. Wouldn't Talon just replace the sheets if they were done here? He doubted there was laundry here, but he could at least soak them and hang them up to dry. 

\---

He finished tugging on everything and with a glance at him, took his leave with the gun. This would be a test. If he was here when he returned, then perhaps he would have… some trust for him.

\---

For a moment, he just sat there after he left. He wasn't sure what to make of this, but he still had to assume that he meant to put an end to this soon. He stripped the beds and took the sheets to the bathroom with him. After his shower, he'd soak them in some soap in the bathtub if he couldn’t find a washer. It would be better than nothing. 

\-----

It was a few hours later that he returned, looking refreshed. When he stepped in, he looked around, searching for signs that he was gone. They’d spent most of their time in the bedroom so if he was here, he’d expect to find him there, but who knew what he’d get up to in his time alone.

\---

Jack was cleaned up, had shaved, dressed himself, and the sheets were hanging up in the bathroom. He was too anxious to be all that hungry, but he still felt like he should have a last meal of sorts, so he'd cooked up the hardiest thing he could manage with the supplies he had and ate every bite of it. He was still cleaning up the kitchen when Reaper returned. If he was going to clean up the mess they made of the sheets, he might as well tidy up the kitchen too. 

\---

He heard the sound of dishes clattering and he followed the sound. It seemed he’d eaten while he was away. He was still here… He approached him, sliding an arm around him to tug him in. “Almost expected you to be half-way back to Overwatch.”

\--- 

Despite his tension about what was going to happen, he was happy to hear him approach. Happier still when the arm was around him and he leaned into him. "I'm not going back to Overwatch." They both knew that. 

\---

“Hm.” He couldn’t kiss him while he was wearing his visor, but he leaned in and kissed his neck instead. He was feeling a lot better after having fed and that meant he was interested in having some fun with him. Especially now that he was all cleaned up. 

\---

The kiss was as pleasant and surprising as the rest of it. He pulled off his visor, then turned to face him fully and kissed him hard. He'd been so ready to die, but he didn’t want this to end. 

\---

He met the kiss, sliding his other arm around him as well. He used the hold to keep him flush against him, his mouth moving eagerly. He’d gotten a lot more comfortable with touching him as the days passed and so his hands were hungrily sliding beneath his shirt.

\---

He loved how confident Gabe's hands were getting and the way they explored him instead of passively taking his touches. He closed his eyes, kissing him back eagerly for a long moment before he broke it. "Gabe...is this gonna be the last time we do this before you go?"

\---

He pulled back a little, looking at him. “...Who said anything about going?” He needed to go, but he didn’t want to. He wasn’t ready to deal with what he’d have to do when it was time to return to his life. He’d given no indication that anything was going to change and he didn’t know why Jack was talking about it now, unless it had to do with him leaving to take care of his needs.

\---

"You've got your powers back. As much as I wouldn't mind just staying out here with you forever, I'm sure you want to get back to Talon." He draped his arms around his shoulders, stealing another kiss from him. "That's why I want to know if this is the last time."

\---

It was the ideal time, he supposed. “...You know that you’re not leaving here alive, right?” If Jack was suggesting it was time for him to go, he didn’t want him to have any ideas about leaving as well. They weren’t going to ‘part ways’ when he left, so if that’s what he was hoping for, then he was out of luck.

\---

"I know." He knew there was nothing that would change that. "So if this is it...if this is the last thing I'll do, I want to make it last." Not a frantic fuck like some of theirs had been.

\---

He frowned, uncertain of what to say. “If you’re that eager to get rid of me, we can take care of this now.” The gun slipped out of his waistband and he pressed it underneath his jaw. Even as he held it there, however, he didn’t want to do it. “Is that what you want?”

\---

He recognized the feel of the muzzle against his jaw and it gave him a strange sense of relief. He didn’t like not knowing when it was coming, but that relief was mixed with disappointment - he still wanted more time with him, even if it was only delaying the inevitable. "It's not at all what I want. I just wanted to know if you're planning to leave now or if we'll stay here together a little longer…"

\---

He didn’t want to talk about it. “Then shut up.” He lowered the gun, setting it on the counter and pressing into him once more. He resumed kissing him, trying to stop him from talking that way as well, in case he didn’t get it and continued to speak.

\---

He got the message. They weren't done here. He kissed him hard, pulling him toward the small table where he'd taken his meal while Reaper had been away. They were both heavy men, but he thought it would be strong enough to support the weight of this endeavor. 


	6. Chapter 6

Widowmaker didn’t know what to expect when she keyed in the code into the back door of the safe house. They didn’t know where Reaper was, but _someone_ was here. With the lack of contact, they had thought maybe the man had reached the safe house and later died of his injuries, but someone had dismissed their call. Whether it was Reaper himself or perhaps his killer, they couldn’t be certain. It was her job to find out and bring her partner home if he was still alive. 

Her rifle was poised and ready as she swept through the rooms, perfectly silent. All was still, but she was starting to hear the faint sound of a television in the living room as she made her way down the hall. She took a slow breath when she reached the threshold of the living room, then turned sharply into the doorway, honing directly in on her target. She was aimed at Soldier 76 and her finger was squeezing the trigger, but she was so stunned when she realized that Reaper was in his lap that she hesitated. 

Jack had been only paying vague attention to the show they were watching. Gabe had been overwhelming all of his senses for days on end and even now, he was paying more attention to the man with his head on his lap and the way his fingers stroked through his soft, thick gray hair than the television. That was until a sniper appeared in the doorway, anyway. He was quick to move, shifting in front of Reaper as if it were him that Widow was aiming at. 

\---

He was comfortable as could be, enjoying the hand in his hair immensely. He was also having trouble focusing on what they were watching, his eyes half-shut as he savored the touches to his scalp. That was until he suddenly shifted and he found himself shoved against the couch, no longer in his lap. 

“What the hell?” He pushed himself up and as soon as he did so, he saw what there was to see. His heart stopped as he took in Widowmaker standing there, rifle aimed. “Widow?” He sounded surprised to see her.

\---

She was baffled and she looked between the two of them with a frown. What the hell was going on here? “...Are you hurt?” Was all she could think to ask. No amount of injuries would have explained why he’d been lying in Morrison’s lap, but she was at a loss for why this was happening. 

Since Gabe had sat up anyway, Jack stayed as he was, his eyes on the sniper. He had the presence of mind now to realize he didn’t need to protect Reyes from her. His partner had come to rescue him.

\---

He glanced between them, a hint of color filling his cheeks. “I’m fine,” he answered roughly, pushing himself to his feet. His eyes tore from her to look around, but it was for naught. His shirt was in the other room. “...What are you doing here?” He took a step closer to her, instead putting himself in the line of fire. 

\---

“Talon sent me to find you. We didn’t know if you were still alive. I came to aid you if you were still here or kill the bastard that gunned you down.” Though the bastard she expected was still sitting shirtless on the couch. She lowered her rifle, but only a little. “Why is he alive?”

\---

He shifted his weight. This was something he’d been avoiding and he wasn’t ready to deal with it. He didn’t have a choice anymore. “He’s the one that got me out.” He didn’t know what Talon knew, but it wouldn’t be impossible that they were unaware of how he’d gotten out. “He gave me a gun and let me go.” It wasn’t really an answer to her question, but it was an answer.

\---

She frowned, all the more confused. That didn’t sound at all like Soldier 76. She leaned a little to look past her partner at the man on the couch, as if checking to make sure it was the right person. “...So he’s defecting to our side?” She couldn’t think of why else he’d help Reaper. He could be an asset and she wasn’t capable of harboring the hatred for him that Reaper did. Or used to, anyway. She thought perhaps Talon could use him. 

\---

The same thought had occurred to him, but… He hadn’t thought it possible. He hadn’t thought he’d agree, so he hadn’t said anything. If Jack agreed to join Talon, then maybe he could forgive him. Maybe. He turned to look at him, his own eyes questioning. “...I don’t know.” It wasn’t really poised at her, rather at him.

\---

He didn’t know either. Overwatch hadn’t been what he’d wanted it to be in a very long time. Maybe he needed to accept that it wasn’t coming back. It wasn’t as if he was going to be welcomed back with open arms after springing Reaper. The only reason they’d had Reaper in the first place was because no one, _no one_ , listened to him anymore. “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I’m not going back to Overwatch.” He knew that much for certain. But joining Talon was...something else. 

“...I guess I don’t need to shoot him quite yet.” Widow lowered her rifle the rest of the way. 

\---

She’d better not. If anyone was shooting him, it would be him. “Widow, can you give us a minute?” He was going to have to deal with this. He didn’t want to deal with this, but there was no more time to pretend the world had stopped spinning. 

\---

She looked between them uncertainly. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Reaper alone with him, but...well, clearly they’d been perfectly safe alone before she’d arrived. She gave him a nod, then stepped out of the doorway and down the hall to give them some privacy.

“Gabe…” Jack looked up to him solemnly. He knew their time was up. It was nice to imagine they could have just stayed here, but it wasn’t realistic.

\---

He wanted to get straight to it. “Are you coming or not?” That was all there was to it. “If not, I’ll get the gun.” He wasn’t asking him whether he would stay here or leave with them. He was asking him whether he would die or leave with them. It wasn’t a very fair choice, but it was the choice he had. 

\---

“You want me to join Talon?” He didn’t think he meant that he was taking him as a prisoner. But the idea of joining was still so ludicrous to him it seemed impossible that he was asking. 

\---

“If you’re actually sorry, yes.” If he wanted to make it up to him, then he would do this. He would help him finish what he started. His changed feelings for the man didn’t extend beyond him. He still hated Overwatch, he still wanted them dead, but… Jack didn’t have to die. It would hurt him to help him and that would be worse than death. Worse and better, because he’d have him. Jack wanted him and he knew that was the only reason he would come, but was it enough?

\---

He was quiet, but he knew he didn’t have long to decide. He didn’t want to work with Talon, but if he could tolerate it for a little while, maybe he could build up some connections and resources outside of Overwatch. Maybe he could build something of his own that was better, more like _his_ Overwatch was supposed to be. When he thought he couldn’t get away with the silence any longer, he stood. “Let’s get dressed and go then.” 

\---

He took a step closer to him. “If you even _think_ about crossing me again, I will tear off your cock and shove it down your throat until you choke. Got it?” His voice sounded as threatening as it got, anger returning to his eyes for the first time in a long time. 

\---

“I’ve got it.” He wanted to touch him, to reassure him, but not when he was this worked up. “Now I’ve got more time to make it up to you.” Not just the time they’d spent together in this little retreat from the rest of the world.

\---

He reached for him and ended up grabbing a handful of hair at the back of his head and used it to wrench his head back slightly. Just enough to force him to look up at him. Then he pressed a rather soft kiss to his visor over his mouth. “Good,” he murmured, before letting him go suddenly. Then he stepped past him to go grab his shit.

\---

He stood there for a long moment after he left. ...Was he really walking out of here alive? He’d been so prepared to die since the moment he made the decision to bust Reaper out. He walked a little as if he was in a dream as he finally made his way out of the room and off to find the rest of his clothes. 

Widow was waiting by the back door. She’d watched Reaper go through the hall to collect his clothes and when Jack came following shortly after, she stepped forward to meet him before he could get into the bedroom. “Try anything cute and I’ll put a bullet in your head before you can blink.” 

He’d been threatened with a gun to his head or someone else’s head in so many instances and varieties lately that he almost laughed. “Just getting dressed. Everything is fine.” He moved past her then to finish getting his clothes on. 

\---

He had nothing but what he’d gotten from the safehouse and so it didn’t take long for him to be ready to go. The place was a bit of a mess, but as he’d said before, it wasn’t his problem. When he returned to Widow, he folded his arms. “...So what does Talon know?” He wanted to know what he’d be walking into.

\---

“That you’re free and Morrison is missing in action.” That was the extent of it. There had been rumors floating around that 76 had actually been the one who sprung him, but that was laughable. At least it had been until she walked in on them like that. “I...thought something might have happened to you when we couldn’t make contact.”

\---

His posture eased slightly. “...I’ve been meaning to contact you.” He didn’t really mean her specifically. He meant the organization as a whole. “I’ve just… I’ve been trying to sort out what to do with him.” That was truthful enough.

\---

She nodded, but frowned. “I tried to get you out sooner. Talon wasn’t doing enough and I tried to infiltrate on my own to reach you, but I couldn’t do it.”

\---

He stared at her, then his arms fell. “You were really by yourself?” He couldn’t believe it and after a beat, he stepped closer. “What were you thinking?” She could have been killed. She could have been caught. “I.. how? Talon didn’t tell you to?” But she’d come after him even so?

\---

She nodded again. “It wasn’t rational, but I couldn’t just leave you in there and do nothing.” It was what Talon wanted her to do - sit and wait. They hadn’t told her _not_ to go try to break him out. 

Jack was dressed, but he could hear them in the hallway and gave them a little space. He wasn’t a part of this conversation and he could give them a moment.

\---

His eyes flicked over her face and eventually he reached for her. Setting a hand on her side. Like so many stolen touches he’d snuck before he’d gotten caught. “...It’s good to see you.” It really was. He was still processing that she’d gone out of her way to try to save him on her own.

\---

She moved in closer when he touched her, almost flush against his chest. “It’s good to have you back.” She would bring him back home where he belonged. “Are you ready to go?”

\---

As close as she was, he could smell her. She smelled familiar. Pleasant. He brushed his lips against hers. “Ready.” As ready as he would be. He was waiting on Jack. They both were.

\---

Jack took that as he cue to join them and he stepped out into the hall just in time to see Widow steal a brief kiss from Reaper. Well...that made things interesting. He wasn’t entitled to the little flicker of jealousy he felt, but more importantly, he wondered if Reyes would lose interest in him now that he had his woman back.

\---

He saw Jack come out from the corner of his eye and he straightened. “Let’s go.” He had no idea how Widow had gotten here, but it was safe to assume there was a car and a plane. He had to think over what he was going to tell Talon… He wasn’t interested in telling them the truth. He needed to get his story straight with the other man. 

He’d think in the car and then they could talk on the plane.

\---

Widow lead the way out, though it was a decent walk to reach the car. She couldn’t risk them hearing the approach of a vehicle if she meant to ambush Morrison. Jack took a deep breath when they were outside. He could still hardly believe he was out in the fresh air and not leaving that house in a body bag. If anyone even found his corpse.


End file.
